NOVEL NEXT Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 62 - By other means - Part Two
Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 62 - By other means - Part Two
Even with advance warning, the scale and severity of Gric’s telepathic assault on the Semenovian traitors caught me by surprise. I had expected Gric’s attack to paralyse them or perhaps momentarily stun them at most. Causing severe seizures was far outside of what I had anticipated.
As surprised as I was, the Duke appeared to be ten times more so. I couldn’t help but think that he was attributing Gric’s actions to premeditated planning and not reactive improvisation.
The traitors, conscious and unconscious alike, were dragged before the Duke and forced to their knees.
“E-Excellency! There m-must be s-some s-sort of m-misunderstanding!” A young nobleman stammered. Thick beads of sweat ran down his brow as he attempted to inch his neck away from the guard’s blade at his throat.
“That’s right!” Cried another nobleman to his right. “We have been accused, but there is no proof!”
“Right!” A noblewoman joined in as she was forced to her knees. “Where is the proof?! Surely your Excellency would not believe outsiders over your liegemen!”
“Yes!” Another noblewoman shrieked hysterically, desperately seizing at any opportunity to forestall her fate. “You can’t just accuse-”
“There is a secret compartment hidden behind the painting of a human woman in a red and gold dress. Within the compartment are several articles of correspondence confirming your guilt and complicity,” Gric announced with a nearly palpable degree of contempt before turning his eyes towards the other traitors who had demanded proof of their misdeeds.
The noblewoman’s face paled and she fell limp in the guard’s grip.
“You,” Gric pointed to the first nobleman who demanded proof. “You are the most incompetent of them all,” he sneered. “To keep an incriminating correspondence within your jacket pocket while attending your Lord.” Gric’s contempt was only matched by his disgust. “Left side,” he commented, guiding the guards who had begun pawing at the accused nobleman’s jacket.
“Excellency!” One of the guards called out in warning and triumph, holding aloft a slightly rumbled piece of folded paper.
“That’s...That’s private!” Squealed the nobleman, “A letter from my paramour! You have no right to-”
“No right?” The Duke had not raised his voice. However, his words silenced not only the protesting nobleman but the entire hall. “Am I not your liege lord? Your sovereign?”
The nobleman realised his mistake and spluttered incomprehensibly as he attempted to defend his actions and somehow prevent the Duke from reviewing the incriminating evidence simultaneously.
“Enough,” the Duke declared coldly, “Captain, have him gagged while I verify the integrity of the Asrusian’s claims.”
“Excellency!” One of the guards standing beside the Duke, presumably the Captain, pulled the stylish linen scarf from the nobleman’s neck and violently stuffed it into the man’s mouth.
The Duke accepted the folded paper and slowly examined its contents.
Several minutes of silence interspersed with the fearful whimpering of the accused nobles passed before the Duke lowered the paper.
The disappointment and mounting stress in the Duke’s strained expression were unmistakable. “Take them away,” he ordered gravely. “I want each of them under constant watch while their properties are searched and servants questioned.”
“As you command, Excellency!” The guard Captain replied zealously before turning on his men and barking orders.
The outer garments of the nobles were stripped then and there in full view of everyone. The precaution bore immediate fruit as several wands, potions and small magical items were uncovered.
“In the interest of acting in good faith and generating goodwill, I am prepared to document a list and otherwise guide your minions to the caches of incriminating evidence,” Gric volunteered. The generosity of his offer was somewhat undercut but also strangely supported by the intense animosity in his tone of voice.
The Duke took a few moments to consider the offer before accepting it with a perfunctory nod, “Captain, the envoy’s attendant shall be in your care.”
Gric smiled ever so faintly in amusement but otherwise said nothing.
“By your word, Excellency!” The Captain agreed obediently before taking a few moments to size Gric up. Given Gric had killed a man with a single blow less than a quarter of an hour earlier, the caution was more than warranted.
Gric approached the Captain and offered a slight bow of his head in greeting.
The Captain nodded in reply but said nothing as they both followed the processions of accused traitors out of the hall.
“A single traitor...” The Duke cursed darkly. “It would be too many...”
I had seen the state of the Duke’s military, which was desperate, and had to agree.
“Is the claim true?” The Duke’s eyes bored into my own with unflinching scrutiny. “Are the Asrusians defeated?”
“The answer depends upon your perspective and values,” I replied evenly and made a point of looking at the Duke’s son before returning the Duke’s stare. “The Asrusian people have survived and now thrive beyond the reach of the Confederacy.”
“They fled?” The Duke looked confused for a moment before reading my expression and slightly shaking his head. “No, that would be impossible...Refugees on that scale would not be able to remain hidden...”
“And yet they managed to do so,” I replied glibly.
“How?” The Duke demanded, bringing the full weight of his dignity and desperation to bear.
I looked over my shoulder and at the assembled nobles. “It is a secret, and only those willing to swear an oath upon their life are permitted to hear it.”
Shocked gasps and murmuring erupted from the crowd but were instantly silenced by a baleful glare from the Duke.
“An oath...This is what keeps the secret?” The Duke rubbed his beard and glanced toward his advisors and family members as he considered the implications and risks involved. “The reports of our spies carried news of entire cities left utterly abandoned. Found empty by the Confederate scouts long before the arrival of their army...You claim this was a planned exodus?”
“For the most part,” I agreed grimly. “Mournbrent was the work of the Liche and collaborators from the temporary Imperial and Confederate alliance. The destruction and death wrought by the Liche is why we pursued it north.” With an effort, I pushed back the haunting memories of Mournbrent and its scenes of carnage. The memories of the murdered children...Their broken lifeless bodies discarded in the corner like garbage...
“-your blades!” The Duke commanded.
Returning to my senses, I found several guards now standing between myself and the Duke. The guards had not fully drawn their swords, but each man had several inches of steel bared before submitting to the Duke’s order.
“Warriors' sickness comes to us all in time,” the Duke commented with a hint of sympathy before lowering his eyes and releasing a deep mournful sigh. “To us all indeed.”
Even if the Semenovians didn’t fight the Confederates, three or more generations had already been scarred by the depredations of the Liche’s campaign of terror.
I said nothing but nodded in agreement and understanding.
Contrary to my expectations, the Duke’s impression of me seemed to have increased.
“An oath of secrecy...Such a price is nothing when weighed against the lives of my people,” the Duke reasoned aloud, receiving varying degrees of support from his advisors and family members in response. “It is not a commitment to act,” he continued for the benefit of the nobles in the crowd. “We are desperate, we are outnumbered, but we will not be Slaves!”
Grim determined acknowledgements and support came from the most loyal nobles amidst the crowd.
“Come, we will converse in the council chamber,” the Duke offered, stiffly rising from his throne and motioning toward a door in the rear of the hall.
I was not particularly surprised when the Duke’s entire entourage of family members and advisors insisted upon joining the meeting. Similarly, the Duke was not surprised when my entourage followed me into the adjoining chamber.
The council chamber held one very large and scarred table strewn with maps of places I did not recognise.
The Duke and his people settled on one side of the table, while me and mine settled on the other.
“We-I-” The Duke amended, shifting from the royal third person mode of speech. “-swear to maintain the secrecy of all I witness during the events of this meeting, upon my honour and my life.”
The members of his entourage hesitated before relenting and repeating the oath themselves.
“And the guards?” Nadine insisted before I had the chance to do so myself.
“All palace guards have sworn comprehensive oaths of secrecy and loyalty,” one of the older men sniffed pridefully.
“Yeah?” Clarice demanded in a disconcertingly reasonable tone. “And you want us to just take your word for it?”
The Duke relented and had the guards standing watch on both sides of the door swear the same oath before returning to their stations.
Sebet remained silent throughout and seemed somewhat distracted.
“We have sworn your oath, now will you divulge your secret, emissary Fharad?” One of the advisors requested tersely, wrinkled eyes staring intensely while he fought not to frown.
“The Asrusians struck a bargain with a monster,” I replied neutrally, watching the Semenovians to gauge their reactions.
“The Dragons?” The Duke asked warily.
Dragons, like any other Beast, suffered a poor reputation concerning their perceived Intelligence. Bearing that in mind, I could understand why the Duke would be unsettled by such a prospect.
“No,” I replied flatly. “The Dragons serve the monster.”
An unsettling silence fell upon those on the other side of the table.
“This monster, it is a Slaver then?” Another advisor asked with a bitter expression on his wizened face.
“It’s complicated, but no,” I replied honestly. I had never taken Slaves with the express purpose of selling, trading or putting them to work. I liberated those that could be trusted and took measures so I could parole those who I could not.
“He, that is, the monster, is a liberator of Slaves,” Nadine added emphatically. “He has freed thousands of Slaves in only a handful of months!”
Several advisors shared uneasy glances.
“Doubt me if you want,” Nadine sighed dispiritedly before quickly rallying. “But if you join us, you will be able to see for yourselves!”
“We would never subordinate ourselves to the Asrusians!” The youngest, but still middle-aged, advisor insisted vehemently, much to the agreement of his seniors.
“And you wouldn’t be!” Clarice shot back snarkily without missing a beat. However, she then hissed irritably and bit back what she had intended to say next.
“You would not be subordinate to the Asrusians,” Nadine explained calmly while resting her hand on Clarice’s shoulder as a sign of support. “Not unless you want to,” she shrugged. “The monster allows an unprecedented degree of autonomy. You would, of course, need to swear oaths to obey his laws, but that’s the trade-off.”
“You speak as if you are not an Asrusian yourself,” one of the advisors accused with unconcealed suspicion.
“Well...” Nadine fidgeted uncomfortably, “I guess I haven’t thought of myself as one for a while...I mean, according to the monster’s customs, I’m not an Asrusian, I’m considered part of a different group.”
“Please, explain this further,” the Duke requested.
“We can choose which group we belong to, and so long as whoever is in charge of that group, you are part of that group...” Nadine nervously cleared her throat, “It’s strange to talk about it like this, but I’m not permitted to go into the proper details with outsiders.”
“Is the oath insufficient?” The Duke demanded incredulously.
“The oath doesn’t prevent someone from pulling the memories of these events from your mind,” Sebet interjected calmly. “Your willingness to swear the oath, the questions you decide to ask, and how you react to the answers, it’s all part of a test.”
“A test?” The Duke scowled with displeasure.
“Of course,” Sebet replied cheerily. “Testing one’s potential allies is important.”
“Where did the Asrusians go?” The Duke’s son asked curiously, breaking the tense silence that had arisen in the wake of Sebet’s revelation.
“Another secret I’m afraid,” Sebet interjected before I had the chance to reply. “However, I can say that they are completely beyond the reach of their enemies.”
A half-truth, considering the soldiers and civilians still living within the former capital.
“What does the monster want?” The Duke’s son asked, seemingly determined to push on.
“Peace and prosperity,” Sebet replied simply. “Forgive the honesty, but you are something of a charity case. Just as the Asrusians were before you. Because, you see, the monster detests needless suffering. And as I am certain we can all agree, war begets suffering in ready abundance.” Sebet’s focus shifted from the Duke’s son toward the eldest of the Duke’s advisors. “Yes, his motivations are that simple, and if you intend on accepting his protection, I would strongly discourage thoughts of promoting divisive bigotry. You will alienate powerful allies and perhaps even risk the monster’s wrath.”
The advisor stared at Sebet with a panicked look in his eyes.
Sebet smirked back at the advisor but said nothing further.
“You said you came to offer our people the chance to escape,” the Duke’s son insisted, ignoring his father’s advisor while becoming emboldened by Sebet’s words. “To make the Asrusians disappear so quickly...Could we see for ourselves if we swore another oath?”
The request carried an element of risk, but it was far less than speaking of the Demi-Plane’s true nature aloud.
“Those who are willing can witness the truth for themselves,” I agreed, if somewhat reluctantly.
While the Duke’s people argued amongst themselves, I left my seat and motioned for Faine and Jayne to rise.
“I will send both of you back,” I explained quietly. Wary that some of the Semenovians may not be as preoccupied with the argument as they appeared to be. “Jayne, you will take the special items to the treasury-”
With her face still hidden beneath her helm, Jayne nodded to show she understood.
“-and Faine, you will escort the Semenovians and extract oaths of compliance to our laws. You can issue a quest to fill out a proper guard detail, but try to make it as diverse as you can manage,” I insisted. “I want them to understand that things are different.”
Faine bowed his head, “As you command.” He began forming the quest almost immediately.
I would use my authority to move the successful applicants to the right place once the Semenovians came to their decision.
“Envoy Fharad, we have made our decision,” the Duke announced decisively. “Our son, Vadim, and three of my advisors shall swear the oaths and bear witness. However...” The Duke’s expression grew somewhat colder and more intense, “We request that the envoy remains as a guarantee of their safe return.”
The Duke’s ‘request’ met with near unanimous agreement from his advisors.
In other circumstances, the request would have been unacceptable. However, the Duke was risking the life of his son and heir. As a father myself, I could understand the desire to exact guarantees for his safety. Although I was not so certain I would have been nearly as polite if I had been in his place.
I hadn’t intended on leaving so soon in the first place, so playing at being a political hostage didn’t bother me in the slightest.
The smug expressions on the faces of several of the Duke’s advisors suggested that they thought they had somehow manoeuvred me into an untenable position.
Doing my best to keep my expression neutral, I took a few moments to provide the illusion of seriously considering the Duke’s offer. “This is acceptable,” I agreed.
I couldn’t help but notice Clarice rolling her eyes. Thankfully, the Semenovians’ collective attention was focused on me and hadn’t noticed.
Two of the advisors became flustered and looked like they wanted to argue. However, before they had the chance, the Duke preemptively silenced them by raising his hand. “We are in agreement then,” he agreed, narrowing his eyes slightly as he scanned my face for signs of deception.
“So long as your envoys abide by our laws and do not antagonise anyone, I guarantee that they will return alive,” I swore, hoping to set the Duke’s mind at ease. I would have guaranteed their health, but there was a chance that the Semenovians would fight the wild monsters and become injured. It was unlikely, but it was not a risk I deemed worth taking.
As I hoped, my words appeared to alleviate a fraction of the Duke’s overt concerns.
“Envoy Fharad, we are curious. Through which means shall your attendants travel?” The Duke asked calmly. Despite the calmness in his voice, the sharp look in the Duke’s eyes made it clear that he was probing for more information.
No doubt, the Duke had already eliminated Ushu as a means of conveyance. Ushu was far too large and readily identifiable to ferry dignitaries on covert missions. Similarly, the vantage point afforded by flying so high would allow the Duke’s son and his advisors to plot out a course and retrace their movements on a map. In either case, Ushu would unwittingly reveal the location of the Asrusians.
Or so the Duke no doubt thought.
“Magic,” I replied simply. “I will teleport your chosen representatives and two of my attendants to accompany them. Once safely on the other side, your representatives will be expected to swear oaths to comply with the laws.”
“You have mentioned these laws before,” the Duke commented, nodding slightly to Nadine to acknowledge her input, “But you have not elaborated upon their contents.”
Clarice’s eye twitched irritably and she aggressively worked the muscles of her jaw. However, she managed to remain silent.
Sebet withdrew a roll of parchment from a small messenger satchel hanging from her waist. Or, at least, she appeared to have done so. I could sense the mana radiating off of the document and knew that Sebet had simply willed it into existence on the fly.
The creation of magical documentation was an Ability that Sebet had insisted all Devil-kind possessed. However, the documents themselves would deteriorate over time unless involved in some form of official Contract.
Having accepted the roll of parchment, the Duke unfurled it and held it out in such a way that his wife and son would be able to read it as well without leaning over his shoulders or leaving their seats.
“There are no laws regulating trade?” The Duke’s wife asked curiously, one dark eyebrow raised as she addressed Sebet directly.
“So long as those engaging in trade do not fall under breach of the existing laws?” Sebet qualified with a ready smile, “No, there are not.”
“I see...” The Duke’s wife replied evenly before adopting a deep thoughtful expression and motioning to the document, “Then perhaps you would not mind explaining the need for several laws addressing various forms of violence if indeed they are all superseded by the primacy of another law?”
“Of course,” still smiling, Sebet nodded appreciatively. Few people understood the laws or took a serious interest in them, but they were a subject Sebet enjoyed discussing to no end when given the opportunity. “It is a matter of layered severity to determine the outcome,” Sebet explained happily. “Many of the variations carry lethal consequences for a breach because the monster refuses to tolerate such actions. Because oaths judge a breach by intention to act and by the intention behind the intended actions, there is no question regarding their guilt or innocence. However, the monster has allowed for a small degree of leniency regarding acts of intentional violence outside of those instances specifically stated to facilitate the integration of less...civilised peoples, without the need for immediately resorting to lethal punishment.”
“The punishment for these crimes are lethal?” The Duke asked, evidently quite surprised that I would take such a firm stance on the worst crimes.
“Of course!” Sebet replied eagerly. “Those that allow for rehabilitation and reintegration are marked with a small star. Otherwise, the remainder carry an immediate consequence of execution.”
“This is impossible...People would revolt...” The Duke muttered incredulously.
“No, they wouldn’t,” Sebet countered with a wide smile. “Criminal and depraved elements exist because they hide their worst sins from the public eye, generating plausible deniability. A serial murderer could walk amongst them, and the crowd of innocent men and women would not know it. Of course, most know that such foul people exist, but they lack the means to find and excise them. Even common street thugs are capable of generating sufficient goodwill from their immediate community that it would allow them to indulge in criminal activity against another community with near impunity.” Sebet leaned back in her chair and tented her long elegant fingers, “The laws and oaths change all of that,” she stated calmly. “They provide the means for the common and innocent men and women to live out their lives safe in the knowledge that anyone who seeks them harm will face swift and utterly impartial justice.” Sebet chuckled slightly and leaned forward again. “The only ones with cause to rebel are those who intend to treat their fellows as prey!”
“These laws also happen to ensure that it is utterly impossible to rebel against the monster...” The Duke commented dryly. “But I am sure that is just a coincidence...”
Sebet smirked wryly. “As odd as it sounds, you are right. On both counts.”
The Duke and his wife narrowed their eyes in suspicion.
“If you are so lucky as to be formally introduced, I think you will understand,” Sebet continued ambivalently. “The intention was to protect people from each other. All of them. Not just the humans, but everyone else as well. You need to keep that particular fact in mind. Of all his subjects, the humans are easily the weakest and in most need of protection.”
“It’s true,” Nadine agreed calmly.
Randle nodded in agreement as well. “Training and levels only get you so far, and they are just as capable of doing the same.”
The Duke frowned slightly. “We would be relegated to a position of inferiority for being human?” He asked Randle.
Randle looked to his cousins for support.
“Not at all, your Excellency,” Faine replied coolly. “My cousin simply acknowledges that if a human and a monster were to fight, and all other concerns were equal, it is the monster that would triumph in nearly every encounter.”
“We are generally more intelligent,” Jayne added thoughtfully, “But your Excellency must also consider that not all humans are suited for soldiering. With monsters, those not suited for combat, are the exception, not the rule.”
“Even so, the Asrusians have acclimated quite well,” Sebet praised. “Cooperation and trade have benefited all concerned.” She looked pointedly at Randle, Faine and Jayne. “The most deserving have surpassed the limits of your greatest heroes, and their power will only grow greater still with time.”
“The Baron...” The Duke’s son muttered.
“Just a small taste of what is possible,” Sebet confirmed slyly.
The Duke’s face paled slightly, but his expression remained the same. “We shall see for ourselves then,” he insisted.
“Very well,” I agreed, slowly rising to my feet and gathering my mana. After a few minutes, I motioned toward the open space on the far side of the room and opened a Breach.
“This is...” The Duke’s eyes widened in shock. However, he still had the piece of mind to wave back the guards approaching from the door.
“Faine, Jayne,” I nodded toward the portal and then handed off the four Artefacts to Jayne’s temporary safekeeping.
Without hesitation, Faine passed through the Breach.
After accepting the Artefacts and stowing them as best as she was able, Jayne followed her cousin through the Breach.
Exercising my authority remotely, I moved Jayne from the other side of the Breach and into Sanctuary’s treasury. After securing the Artefacts, I gathered Faine’s quest recipients and placed them a short distance from Faine and the Breach.
Maintaining the Spatial Breach to my Demi Plane was just as easy as it had been the last time. However, I was very much aware that this was most likely because of the extreme degree of control I had over my Demi-Plane, to begin with. Connecting two points independently of my Demi-Plane would likely prove far more taxing.
Vadim proved far braver, or perhaps because he had witnessed the devastation firsthand, was more desperate than the Duke’s advisors. Sparing only a moment to bow to his father and mother, Vadim then strode boldly into the Breach.
The trio of volunteer advisors followed shortly afterwards but were far more timid and very nearly had to be pushed through the Breach by their peers.
Vadim returned a few moments later, no doubt sent by Faine to confirm that the Breach was harmless. After sharing a few quiet words with his parents, he passed through the Breach again.
With no immediate need to continue maintaining the Breach, I cancelled the Spell.
“I will open the portal again in a few hours so they can share their early impressions,” I explained while taking my seat once more. “If you deem it necessary, I can then open the portal again and allow others to witness their claims firsthand. However, my patience is not infinite, and I shouldn’t have to remind you of the Confederate advance.”
“Three hours then,” the Duke agreed grimly. “I will have refreshments provided, but I must review the progress of the Captain and his men.” He inclined his head respectfully and then led the assembled Semenovians out of the room, leaving only the guards behind.
“Fuck!” Clarice swore the moment the door was closed, startling the two guards. “Three hours?!” She groaned and kicked at the underside of the table. “What if three hours is too long?!” Clarice kicked the table again and pulled at her short red hair.
“Hush,” Sebet cooed soothingly, gently brushing her hand over Clarice’s back.
Clarice released her hair and glowered at the table instead.
Fesk removed his riding gloves and began chatting with Nadine, unsure why everyone had been talking about me as if I wasn’t there. The abstract concepts involved took Nadine the better part of an hour to explain and provide the proper context for everything that was going on.
Now caught up, Fesk didn’t seem particularly interested and began chatting about something more discreetly.
Wearing armour for long periods was something I was growing increasingly accustomed to. However, the perfect fit of the armour could only do so much. At a certain point, I had to get up and slowly pace the circumference of the room to help ease my back and hips.
Randle did the same, but I felt it was more out of a sense of solidarity than an immediate personal need.
Nadine probably could have eased or eliminated the discomfort with one of her Abilities. But it felt like a waste and a needless risk to spend her relatively finite mana on something so frivolous.
Remotely observing Faine, I was able to watch events unfold as the Duke’s son Vadim, and his advisors were taken on a tour through Port Gidian and then a few of the nearby villages.
It came as a surprise to learn that Beast-drawn coach services were operating so prolifically in the Human territories.
I had expected wagons and even carriages. However, several entrepreneurial souls had apparently decided that there was a living to be made in transporting people and not just trade goods.
Because the wild monsters of my Demi-Plane were literally incapable of approaching the established roads, and the laws forbade and prevented banditry, the coaches were free to travel in safety.
Of course, Ril could no doubt bankrupt them all overnight if she chose to create Gateways to every city, town and village. But I sincerely doubted she would make the effort. So far as I was aware, despite accepting hefty tributes as advance payment, Ril had a backlog of cities still awaiting their agreed-upon Gateways.
Resisting the urge to return home was slowly wearing me down.
To have the means so close to hand and not use it was immensely frustrating. However, the knowledge that my patience could quite probably save hundreds of thousands of lives served as a resilient deterrent.
The Duke returned just shy of what I estimated to be the third hour. With Gric and the guard Captain in tow, he was otherwise alone.
Gric peeled away at the first opportunity and took up a sentry position behind me and close to the wall.
Meanwhile, the guard Captain did the same for the Duke.
“Even if it is only for the assistance provided by your attendant, we offer our most sincere thanks,” the Duke bowed his head in respect and the guard captain bowed low at the waist. “The traitors' treachery would have brought doom to my people, were it not for your intervention. Unfortunately, the roots run deep, and my reach is shorter than it once was...”
I had witnessed the siege and attempted arrest of several noble families before. Even with all the advantages afforded through Synergies, the fighting had been particularly brutal.
In choosing to pursue the traitors within the other cities, the Duke would need to decide which soldiers he would send. Casualties would be almost unavoidable if the traitors chose to resist. And they would almost certainly resist given that their necks were due for the hangman’s noose.
It was simply a matter of whether the Duke would send his already dangerously depleted ranks of elites, or the raw conscripts.
Not pursuing the traitors at all would mean dooming entire cities of civilians to the Confederates.
There was no easy choice for the Duke to make.
Assuming the Duke agreed to become my subordinate, things would work out quite differently.
With my champions leading the charge, I sincerely doubted that the traitors would manage much of anything before being overrun. The arsenal of Spells at their disposal would make short work of any human defenders, and allow my champions to bypass or otherwise compromise most conventional defences.
However, my champions would only be made available IF the Duke swore oaths of fealty. There was no real point in doing the Duke favours if he and his people would be overrun and defeated by the Confederates anyway. Leaving the traitors be would quite possibly result in fewer deaths...
Yet the total amount of suffering would likely be much higher...
“We wish to speak with our son and advisors,” the Duke decided after I failed to reply to his earlier observations.
I nodded and slowly began gathering my mana again.
Faine and his charges had finished their tour of one of the comparatively older villages and were observing a minor festival held to commemorate the village’s prosperity.
Vadim and the advisors looked particularly disappointed when I opened the Breach and Faine signalled that it was time to leave.
Shepherding the Semenovians through the breach, Faine was the last to return to the council chamber.
“Father!” Vadim called out excitedly as he rushed toward the Duke. “You need to witness it for yourself or you will not believe me!”
The Duke was taken aback by his son’s intensity and unexpected positivity. “They did not lie?” He asked while eyeing me with deep suspicion.
“Excellency,” one of the three advisors stepped forward and bowed his head. “To the best of my knowledge, we were given the freedom to explore as we willed. Only one location was denied to us-”
“Why?” The Duke demanded suspiciously.
“Excellency, we were denied because that is the seat of the monster’s power. It is the monster’s royal capital,” The advisor explained diligently.
“The locals refer to the monster as their Tyrant, Excellency,” Another advisor explained. “And entry to the capital is denied to all but a handful of humans. To the best of my understanding, it is occupied predominantly by monsters. Although they are not restricted to this city by any means.”
“Indeed!” The final advisor interjected, “Excellency, we saw many instances of monsters moving freely through the Asrusian port city. More than that, the humans and monsters worked side by side more often than not.”
“A port city?” The Duke’s eyes flashed as if the advisor had been allowed to let a crucial detail slip past his oaths.
The second advisor winced slightly and shook his head. “Excellency...I believe I know your thoughts on this matter and must reluctantly inform you that I failed utterly in attempting to locate our position...That place...It is utterly unique, but is not on any of my maps...”
“You are certain, Gregor?” The Duke pressed, his tone conveying a profound degree of disappointment.
The second advisor, Gregor, bowed his head in defeat but said nothing further.
All throughout, Vadim’s enthusiasm and excitement had not ebbed in the slightest. “Father, the envoy’s words were true. We cannot procrastinate on this decision!”
“Vadim is right, Excellency,” the first advisor agreed. “We witnessed no signs of meddling from the Tyrant in the Asrusians' affairs. They appeared to be entirely left to their self-governance. I cannot entirely trust the answers provided by the civilians we questioned during our stay, for obvious reasons. However, given the unfettered access we were provided, and the consistency of the responses, there are several key reasons why I believe your Excellency should accept the proposed alliance and enter into the protection of the Tyrant.”
Vadim and the two other advisors nodded vigorously in agreement as the first advisor prepared himself and gathered his thoughts.
“Continue,” the Duke commanded, his interest clear for all to see.
“I have already mentioned the near complete autonomy afforded to the Tyrant’s subjects, which cannot be understated as it would allow your Excellency to continue guiding our people,” the advisor stated with adept diplomacy and due deference. “However, I believe that there is something of far greater consequence.”
The Duke frowned slightly but motioned for the advisor to continue.
“Quests, Excellency! Somehow the Tyrant is not only able to issue Quests but can also bestow that power upon others!” The advisor announced excitedly.
“Wh-What?!” The Duke exclaimed incredulously.
“It is the truth, Father!” Vadim confirmed with barely contained excitement. “We overheard the news by chance, but everyone we asked said the same thing! And there is more! Those who give out the Quests can unlock special Classes!”
The Duke glanced at us from the corner of his eye, and I could tell that he was wondering whether we possessed such Classes.
“There is more, Excellency,” the advisor Gregor insisted, “The Tyrant has Quests that guide his subjects to unlock the Classes of their own choosing! And not just the common soldiering Classes either! There are dozens of them! Advanced and even Master tier Classes as well!”
The Duke could only stare in stunned silence.
“Impossible...” The guard Captain wheezed through his enormous moustache, “Simply...Impossible...”
“What could this Tyrant stand to gain from all of this?” The Duke demanded, his suspicions rising as he waited for the metaphorical rug to be pulled out from beneath his feet.
The three advisors were at a loss and could only bow their heads in apology for their ignorance.
“Security,” I calmly interjected. “Surely you, of all people, should recognise why it would be desirable to have a loyal and formidable populace capable of rising to face an external threat?”
The Duke scowled in disapproval but nodded. “Then it is a means of consolidating power then?”
“As well as incentivising and rewarding loyalty and initiative,” I replied evenly. “Your advisors may have overheard news of an upcoming tournament?” I looked to the Duke’s advisors and they cautiously nodded.
“What is its significance?” The Duke asked warily.
“It is partially a means to allow the populace to indulge in observing and participating in violent entertainment,” I admitted candidly. “However, the primary purpose is to seek out the worthy for higher responsibilities and power.”
Randle straightened his back and squared his shoulders with pride. After all, he had been amongst the first to be chosen as one of my champions.
“Then your attendant...” The duke eyed Gric with a healthy degree of concern.
“I am a champion of the Tyrant,” Gric replied pridefully, making no attempts at tempering his immense degree of satisfaction.
The Duke furrowed his brow and silently considered his options. “Would it be possible to meet with this Tyrant before I make my decision?” He asked.
I had suspected that the meeting would be required from the beginning. So I was not at all surprised by the Duke’s request. However, he needed to be the one to ask, and not me. Setting aside the mercurial nature of politics, the Duke would be far more receptive in a face-to-face meeting as the party who initiated the proceedings.
“I am sure the Tyrant would be open to the idea of meeting face-to-face,” I replied in a measured tone. “However, to prove your pure intentions and for the sake of encouraging positive diplomatic ties, the meeting would, of course, need to take place in a more secure location.”
“Of course...” The Duke agreed with a forced smile. Given his own court had been riddled with traitors, he lacked the leverage required to contest the matter and knew it.
“My attendants will remain behind to serve as collateral if required,” I offered, confident that I could simply evacuate them through a Breach or other means if necessary. “However, as before, anyone you intend to take with you must swear to abide by the Tyrant’s laws.”
The Duke’s brow wrinkled slightly, “I would not be required to swear these oaths?” He asked, somewhat confused by my choice of phrasing.
I shook my head. “Take it as a show of good faith,” I replied. Without the oaths to coerce or guide his behaviour, his actions would remain entirely his own. A minor risk, but one that was required to show the Duke that I was not using the oaths to interfere with people's minds to alter their judgement and opinions of me.
“And if I was to bring my wife, the Duchess?” The Duke asked, taking me nearly entirely by surprise.
“I am sure the Tyrant would not expect the Duchess to abide by a ruling to which her husband is exempt.” I wasn’t sure why the Duke would want to bring his wife into a potentially dangerous encounter, but my response had put him far more at ease than before.
Now I felt like things made more sense. No doubt, the Duke intended that his wife would provide some degree of insurance in case the meeting went bad. Unfortunately for the Duke and Duchess, Classes and levels meant practically nothing when I could manipulate the very fabric of the Demi-Plane at will...
***** Katia Semenov ~ Semenov Duchy / Tim’s Demi-Plane ~ Undisclosed Location *****
Duchess Katia dismissed the servants and made the final adjustments to her husband’s regal outfit herself. The blend of magical ceremonial armour and cultural vestments cut quite the imposing figure. They would also provide a certain degree of insurance if things turned violent.
Katia was no less prudent, opting for a formal gown several seasons out of fashion and working several elements of magical hard boiled-leather armour into the ensemble. She also had a magical dagger sheathed and strapped to each hip and a traditional promise-blade hanging from her neck and over her bodice by a length of finely braided leather cord.
It was almost certain that the monster, the self-styled Tyrant, would recognise the cultural significance of the small blade. However, Katia was confident that a calm explanation of its intended function would allow her to keep it on her person.
Last of all, Katia had three slender wands hidden up the sleeves of each arm.
Compared to the ceremonial magic sword peace-bound at her husband’s hip, Katia was guaranteed to be the most heavily armed member of their diplomatic mission.
“Am I a fool, Katia?” Savva asked quietly, his dark eyes plagued by doubt.
The Duchess drew close to her husband and made a show of adjusting the large clasp on his cloak. “I think you are making the right decision,” Katia commented supportively. “Is this dangerous? Reckless even? Of course,” she stated as a matter of indisputable fact. “But what other options are left? The Confederates will not allow our family to survive. Even if we were to flee, they would never stop hunting us...” Katia’s fingers fell from the clasp and formed into tight small fists at her sides. “To say nothing of what would happen to our people...We failed in protecting them from the undead. There Is no denying this. We cannot allow ourselves to fail in protecting them against the Confederates as well.”
Duke Savva nodded grimly in agreement. “We cannot fail again.”
“Assuming this Tyrant is capable of taking even a tenth of our people as refugees and is only half as benevolent as they claim, that will be a far greater victory than we could hope for through strength of arms,” Katia continued, forcing herself to face the brutal realities of their impossible situation.
Savva continued nodding in agreement. They had already discussed the matter at great length and were of one mind on how to proceed. However, Katia knew all too well that it was in her husband’s nature to worry over important decisions. Far from lacking in confidence, the concern came from the desire to make the best possible choice. Once they were fully committed, the worry would disappear and be replaced by absolute surety as they moved forward.
“For our people,” Savva agreed, cementing his resolve and casting one final look at the letter they had left on the table.
Marked with the ducal seal, the letter contained words of advice and encouragement from both of them for their children. There was a real possibility that one or even both of them might not return.
Already adults in their own right, Vadim and Irina were capable of making their own decisions. However, having received a similar letter from her own mother who had been claimed by plague, Katia knew that the letter and its intent would provide a measure of comfort even if the advice itself was ignored in its entirety.
Leaving their chambers, their small contingent of guards fell into step behind them.
Entering the council chambers, Katia cast a wary eye over the Envoy and his attendants. She still found it incredibly strange that so many fighting women would be a part of such a delegation. Katia knew that Asrusians had a more open mind toward women serving in their military, but it still struck her as odd all the same.
With a flourish of his gauntleted hand, the dark-skinned envoy of the Tyrant created a pitch-black mass of darkness in the corner of the room. Supposedly a portal to the Tyrant’s domain, Katia couldn’t help but feel a primal surge of fear at the sight of it. Every instinct was telling her to run as far away from it as possible.
There was a bemused expression on the envoy’s face that stung at Katia’s pride as he confidently entered the black mass and disappeared.
“Together,” Savva discreetly offered her his hand.
“Together,” Katia agreed, taking her husband’s hand and drawing on his resolve to reassert her own.
Stepping into the darkness, Katia felt a second surge of panic as the ground fell away from beneath her feet before returning a fraction of a second later.
Still holding Savva’s hand, Katia released a deep sigh of relief as she was drawn out of the darkness and into the light once more.
They had entered what appeared to be an incredibly large and open-roofed stone chamber approximately twice the size of the Duchy capital’s throne room.
Katia’s relief was short-lived as she took in their surroundings and almost immediately laid eyes upon their host.
Looming above them and sitting upon an immense stone throne, a Giant stared down at them with a bemused smile on his face. Wearing finely tailored clothes of impeccable quality and a thick golden band about his head, it was obvious that the Giant was the Tyrant they had come to negotiate with.
“These humans are?” A deep yet feminine voice asked, drawing Katia’s attention to the impossibly large female Orc sitting on a smaller throne at the Giant’s side. Wearing equally fine if somewhat mannish clothes, the Orc wore a crown that matched that of the Giant.
The female Orc’s bright amethyst eyes stared at Katia with unabashed curiosity and a complete absence of fear.
It was a look that made it abundantly clear that the Orc considered their entire delegation to amount to a non-threat.
Returning her attention to the massive form of the Giant and his bemused expression, Katia had no choice but to agree with them.