NOVEL NEXT 69. Undercity II
Enforcer Barbani had enjoyed a long and illustrious career, and during the course of that career, she had learned how to estimate the skill set and threat of others around her by just looking at them. Therefore, when her senses screamed that the girl, barely a few years older than a child, was not normal, she listened, and she observed. It did not help that her masters had made it clear that she was to protect the younger girl with her life, and the lives of everyone else if necessary. She hoped that she wouldn't have to resort to that, but she wasn't going to bet on it and leave behind debt.
The first thing she noticed was how the girl moved. She had been normal when she was helping rip apart a corpse to uncover its secrets, but then the moment the seventh guild mistress had informed her of her new mission, her everything had changed. As if a switch had flipped inside her brain, she turned herself into a fighter. Now she moved with the paranoid jerky demeanor of a predatory animal, head leaning forward, her eyes constantly scanning in every direction and her pet, the strange thing, would grow eyes to do the same. The two of them moved in coordination and yet, never seemed to be looking at the same place at the same time. Constantly watching, analyzing, preparing. If not for her age, Barbani would have expected her to have been the product of a lifetime of fighting.
As the elevator plunged further down towards Middle Gerankir, the strange girl turned to her.
"Can I summon something here?" Barbani nodded and watched in interest as a sickly yellow portal screamed into existence and a wasp-infested human corpse stepped out, accompanied by the sounds of buzzing. By then the elevator had dropped a few feet more and the thing fell before painfully standing up on joints bending the wrong way, the wrong way that was still more efficient. The thing's sallow, sickly skin and dirty rags bulged and rippled as wasps moved underneath them. Lines of black chitinous substance held the creature intact like stitches as it stood with the posture of an elvenoid reptile.
The wasp host went on to stand next to the creature of many limbs like soldiers in a line. It faced forward, stiff and unmoving other than the undulations of the infestation beneath its skin. The wasp host also had a gun holster attached to its waist. Cheap and disposable guns. Expendable. The girl had been preparing for war. What war? As she was now, even Barbani could subdue her with ease, let alone the Wyrmlord. And that just added to the oddity that was the Wyrmlord's interest in her.
Then the elevator stopped and the cylinder enclosing it opened up.
My first glimpse of Middle Gerankir did not leave me awed. I expected something akin to the corporate cities of Earth or perhaps a shithole with violence and destruction everywhere, but it looked surprisingly normal. Lit up by lines of light running on an enormous artificial roof, the 'slum', if it could even be called that anymore, was populated by tenements that ran from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. The majority of these buildings had bridges connecting them to their neighbors; an even greater majority of the buildings looked like they had ceased construction mid-way, with exposed support beams and chipped paint. And the even odder thing was that new well-maintained structures had grown on these unfinished ones like fungus, balconies, overhanging apartment blocks, smaller buildings and so on.
The streets were not empty, but everyone moved at a hurried pace and with furtive, paranoid glances that only worsened when they saw the mask of the enforcer accompanying me. Under their watchful and suspicious eyes, we moved quickly. Medea clicked in discomfort; even it was spooked by the attention.
The enforcer guided me and my two Generals down a specific alley between two large buildings. They seemed to know where they were going, but they didn't speak much, and I couldn't be bothered to spare much thought for them, not when I was dealing with Kalist's machinations. I was not stupid, I hoped anyways, and I had Selene on standby to pop a Summon spell at a moment's notice. Medea was adjusting its bladed limbs and drones with my guidance; nothing much, just last minute optimizations on an organism that I barely understood. The enforcer stopped and fished out what looked like a circlet with a circular metal piece where the left ear should be. Not a headphone, not at all, but still a product of convergent technological evolution.
"Put this on."
I did as the enforcer asked, and the circlet crackled in my ears before the familiar voice of High Councillor Ayn came through it.
"Hello, Anya."
"Good evening, Lady Ayn." I almost instinctively bowed before remembering that she was not before me. It was a wonder what months of living without modern amenities had done to me, I had to actively remember how a phone worked! I turned my face around so that the enforcer wouldn't see the blush creeping around my ears. Thank Quiraion that my face was now just a skin mask.
"Evening, Anya." Then the thing crackled again and the enforcer stiffened. When she next spoke, her voice was more formal, and I understood that she was speaking to the enforcer as well. "I shall be observing and overseeing this operation in my capacity as a High Councillor representing the will and the judgment of the Illustris Council."
"Yes ma'am!" The enforcer spoke out loud. Then another crackling noise and Ayn's voice shifted back as we resumed walking.
"Only reply with a yes, or a no unless I tell you otherwise. Are we clear?"
"Yes."
"Good. I don't know what Kalist is up to or why he wants you around for it. I doubt it, but I must ask. Do you?"
"No." I had used my divination skill tens of times in a row but the most I ever got was a vision of something fleshy stretched across a wall with two wide veiny eyes rolling around before turning as one to face me. That vision alone had netted me a decent few skill levels but I was not able to recreate the vision afterwards, no matter how many times I tried. Maybe if that skill would evolve once more then I would be able to better use it. As it was, I was learning first hand why divination was so damn rare. It was fairly useless except as a simple utility unless I actively burned mana to level it by use, and most people have better things to spend mana on, probably including me. Still, when it was useful, it was very much so.
"Personally, I suspect that he is aware of your status as a Godtouched as well and wants to use you as a hostage for whatever he is planning. For what it is worth, that means that he will not kill you. There are ways to defy the gods but he should not have acesss to any of them. Do you have any skills that can get you out of there in an emergency?" Not even denying that she was aware of my true nature, was she?
"Yes." Ayn clicked her tongue.
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"Elaborate."
"I can surround my body with my monsters and summon them back to my home. It is not instant, however."
"I see. Is it a teleportation skill?"
"No. It creates a portal between two points, err, I think so."
"Good. Harder to block than a teleporter. This might not be a disaster after all." I had my doubts. Admittedly they were not based on any secret information that I lacked but I was not inclined to be optimistic. I did not voice my thoughts and she continued. "Now focus on getting past that door intact. Good luck."
"Thank you Lady Ayn."
The moment the connection broke, Medea spoke in my mind.
'This one is worried as well. It is all too convenient. The dragon must know that mother would want the opportunity to look at another biomancer's work as well. And the councillor is far too willing to send you into danger as well. Remember that she had likely tried to have you killed before as well.'
I sent the mental equivalent of a nod to it as we approached a crossroads between four large buildings. Above us, people milled along on suspended bridges lined with harsh lights. At the crossroads, under the shadow of the intersection of multiple bridges, three other enforcers awaited us. One was a heavy set tall man with a mask that seemed oddly pudgy, as if a cushion had been bound tight in wires and had pulled out from between them. The large enforcer seemed to have eschewed traditional lightweight armor for something similar to the soft substance his mask was made of. Probably some weird skill whose functioning was beyond my ability to divine, except if I used my actual divination skill. The other two just looked normal, I mean as normal as members of something that rhymed suspiciously well with 'decret folice' with masks covering their faces.
The enforcer who had been with me from Tiamim's office turned to me and introduced herself as just B, short for something I did not need to know. Her words, not mine.
The other three just went with V, H, and L respectively, with the cushion guy being V. None of them seemed interested in talking much and after enough of an introduction that we could communicate when needed, we were all off again.
An explosion rang out in the distance and I almost jumped, time freezing as I looked through my own eyes and then that of both of my generals in search of the source. Smoke rose not far ahead of us. After not seeing anything that seemed like an immediate threat, I let go and slumped.
"That's where our destination is. I would have preferred it if it were not so but it is an active war zone now. The place will be overrun by kobolds unless we can get Parciv out and destroy whatever facility he had built decades of working." L said, turning towards me with an unnaturally jerky motion.
"How many?"
"Hundreds last we managed to get a somewhat accurate estimate. We will be going in with a larger force and using them as cover to slip inside. Do not be one of those morons that take risks for experience, otherwise I will knock you out. Are we clear?" I nodded, inwardly just annoyed by this rather regular thing now where people threatened me instead of just talking like civilized elvenoids.
It was not that I did not trust L but I decided to burn a tiny fraction of my stockpiled mana on a minor bit of biomancy nonetheless, after asking of course. I was not going to test how these people would react to someone manifesting weapons without warning. The keratin of my nails rapidly started rotting before falling off with a small spurt of blood as bone grew. The outermost of my finger bones, the distal phalanges elongated until they broke skin, and they kept growing, outward into spike-like long conical claws that could pierce or slash with ease, but also inwards to my knuckles to strengthen them in a lattice-work of bone that allowed for some movement. Then it was time for the wrist, here I was careful not to lock my movement entirely but I lost some flexibility nonetheless. The bones crawled to my elbows before terminating in large spines at the back of my elbow. Then muscle hypertrophy followed on my arms and shoulders so that I could use my claws with the appropriate force to begin with.
Normally, losing the functionality of opposable thumbs made these claws very much not worth the cost, but I was not taking any chances. If something got too close, I was clawing them. An image of me as an angry hissing cat crossed my mind briefly and I stifled a giggle. I loved this euphoric light-headedness that biomancy always engendered.
I was already, and perhaps permanently, shielded by a layer of osteoderm as well because of my regressions, so a new bone armor on top was probably unnecessary. Satisfied, I looked over the mana stored in my bones and cringed at how much of it I had used despite just giving myself claws. Oh well, better that than being dead. Even with my best effort, it took me minutes to align the muscles and bones correctly. No way I could make them at a moment's notice in a fight.
My companions did not comment at the transformation, but L nodded with what I assumed was approval. It could have just been acknowledgment though. Together, we arrived at what was a cordoned-off section of Middle Gerankir. Beyond the rows of thugs and warriors that no doubt belonged to the Underlords of Gerankir, the sounds and lights of a battle rang out. That familiar flame of Kalist lapped at unfinished buildings hungrily before being beaten back by classers of all kinds until they too were made to retreat. Smoke swirled in the air and I could feel the world around me getting hotter. Somehow, the smoke was being removed and hundreds of thousands were not choking to death. Small mercies.
"Halt." A man with tattoos that danced across his bare granite-colored arms called out. He strode over to us and peered at me with one eye that seemed a bit too large for his already massive face. The other was covered by a filigree of gold set on the orbits. He snorted.
"So this is the girl?"
L stepped forward and pulled up to his not quite as impressive height. Still, he didn't seem to be trying to show the cyclopean man up, just talking. Quiraion knew I had nonexistent patience for that kind of contest of masculinity. That sort of idiocy was how you got your caravan of refugees redirected, and starved or bombed. A memory of a tanned slavic guy with wild curly brown hair arguing loudly with an olive-skinned man a few inches shorter but with far more defined muscles rose in my mind. That had ended in a lot of bloodshed that could have been avoidable.
"Yes. We are not sure if there are more doors so we will be escorting her all the way through. If you have any other attacking forces leaving, we can use the distraction." The granite guy cracked a rough smirk but nodded.
"We have one going in at fifteen. You can join up with them."
"Thank you. We shall commence preparations right now."
Then my earpiece crackled. L cocked his head while Granite looked up before letting loose a gravely laugh.
"Well, well, it looks like your bosses aren't as confident. I've been asked to send four of mine as well with you."
Wait, what? A smaller team would have an easier time with infiltration.
'Maybe the Councillor fears that she would be sending mother to her death?'
Possible. But then if Godtouched could not do anything risky at all then they would never grow into their power. And at what point did the gods decide what was a deliberate murder to begin with? Was the possibility that I could slip in the bath and crack my skull a real risk?
As if hearing my thoughts, my circlet thing crackled again. For the first time ever, Ayn sounded actually furious, her voice trembling as she spoke.
"Do not speak here. They will hear you. I don't know why but the Underlord representative suddenly insists that four people from their camp accompany you. The council had no choice but to agree. We can't fight both them and Kalist right now, but be very careful. Do not underestimate the Wymlord."
I was not going to. Everything so far seemed to be going exactly according to whatever plan Kalist had. He had a small army, he had me going wherever he wanted me to, with people he might be controlling, and in a scenario where the council burning it all to the ground will incur the gods' wrath on them, and even ignoring that, likely kill millions from just the aftereffects of using a sufficiently powerful skill down here. And if I walked away, the council would be dangerously humiliated, his army would only grow until some much stronger classer got to him, or he had a little fiefdom all of his own in the city.