NOVEL NEXT Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 74 - Power and privilege - Part One
Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 74 - Power and privilege - Part One
Just as Hana had predicted, most of the plants were too weak or were just outright unfortunate and failed to survive the Tribulation. Turned to ash and swept away by the wind despite the presence of the lightning rods. However, those that remained carried varying levels of Thunder-aligned energy.
While Zhu Min sought privacy to change her blackened and singed clothing behind a boulder, I took the opportunity to inspect the surviving plants more closely.
Compared to the hybrid plants grown within The Grove, these plants seemed to contain between five to ten times their counterparts' energy. Although it was somewhat difficult to calculate due to the surrounding stone radiating the same energy.
Intended as a general experiment, I located a portion of surviving moss and used the Plant Growth Spell to trigger new growth and spread the moss over the recently abandoned rocks nearby.
More or less as I had expected, the Thunder-aligned energy within had been diluted as it spread throughout the newly increased mass of the plant.
I decided to perform the same experiment with the peach tree Hana had planted in the centre of the Arrays.
Lacking Hana and the Daemons’ natural ability to ‘see’ the flows of mana and other energies, I simply allowed the tree to grow wild.
Minute by minute, the sapling grew into a young tree, forking a large branch toward each of the massive jade pillars that formed the anchor for the Arrays.
When my MP began running low, I decided to experiment with feeding Chi into the tree instead. Contrary to my experience with Lurr, the tree drew in Chi like a sponge. Furthermore, it continued to grow at a rate roughly half as fast as it had when targeted by the Plant Growth Spell.
Carried away contributing to the explosive growth of the tree, I came within a few breaths of depleting my available Chi before cancelling the transfer.
Against my expectations, I felt a vague sense of disappointment, longing and regret emanate from the tree. This strongly suggests that the tree had some form of sentience that was otherwise absent in the plant life outside of the Arrays.
I was drawn away from my thoughts upon noticing I had kept Zhu Min waiting. She had made no attempts at actively seeking my attention, but the intense eagerness in her tense frame made it abundantly clear that it had taken a considerable degree of effort.
“You have decided on your reward?” I guessed, smiling slightly in amusement despite myself.
“Yes, Patriarch!” Zhu Min nodded emphatically while bowing slightly at the waist.
I motioned for her to continue.
“If the Patriarch will allow it...” Zhu Min momentarily lost her nerve but pushed through with grim determination. As if she was facing down a powerful foe on the battlefield. “I would humbly ask for the guidance of a martial arts master!” Zhu Min bowed stiffly to the exact degree bordering on what I had forbidden, pressing her fists together so tightly that the cartilage in her joints popped like cracking bones.
Reflecting upon my established expectations, I realised that I had made a fundamental miscalculation in assuming a Cultivator’s requests would fall in line with a regular person’s.
Regardless, I had made a promise and intended to keep it.
“It may take some time,” I cautioned, tempering her expectations. “However, I will keep to my word and find you a suitable teacher.”
Zhu Min raised her head slightly and I could see she was positively beaming with gratitude.
“Thank you, Patriarch!” Zhu Min exclaimed fervently.
Studying Zhu Min’s face, the absence of anger and doubt in her response was rather confusing. After reflecting on my own behaviour leading up to my Tribulation, I had thought I had gained some insight into identifying signs of Heart Demons. Yet, I couldn’t see or sense any signs of their presence within Zhu Min.
Exercising my authority, I relocated us both to the otherwise isolated shrine.
“Zhu Min, are you familiar with the Ritual method of removing Heart Demons?” I asked while directing her attention toward the entrance of the shrine.
Zhu Min nodded somewhat uncertainly.
“As a precaution, I would like you to perform the Ritual before returning to your grandfather,” I explained bluntly. “I have witnessed your control over the Gluttonous Soul and am impressed by your measure of mastery. However, pushing your Cultivation to the point of generating a Tribulation may have subtly altered your emotional receptivity, and by extension, your control. So please, allow me this indulgence.” I motioned to the Shrine again, this time more insistently.
Zhu Min nervously bowed her head, “I will do as you ask, Patriarch.”
Entering the shrine, I was pleased to find that Gric or Sebet had made another incense delivery during my absence.
Theoretically, Zhu Min would only require a handful of sticks at most, but having more on hand was reassuring.
After referencing the manual for instructions, Zhu Min set about placing the incense bowls round about herself with meticulous care. After fussing for fifteen minutes, she carefully lit the incense sticks and settled into a meditative pose on the floor.
Standing outside of the shrine, the extreme contrast in the lighting made it difficult to see what was happening within. Or rather, it did, until I cast the Keen Senses Spell on myself.
With my sight magically augmented, the sunlight was reduced considerably, allowing me to see the inside of the shrine in great detail. However, it took several moments for me to properly understand what I was looking at.
Zhu Min appeared to be sweating a dark ink-like liquid which stained her clothes before slowly pooling on the floor.
Without warning, Zhu Min leaned forward and violently expelled a torrent of black liquid across the floor.
Unlike the comparatively thin substance shed from her skin, the black vomit had a thick tar-like consistency. Furthermore, it appeared to be moving of its own accord.
Little by little, the tar drew itself together and began taking on a vaguely humanoid form. After completing its transformation, it bore a rough resemblance to Zhu Min herself. Albeit, naked and bearing fangs, claws and a thin whip-like tail.
As if sensing my presence, the creature spun about and charged toward the entrance of the shrine.
The instant it crossed the threshold, its body collapsed into inert material and began rapidly disintegrating.
The creature, as short-lived as it had proven to be, reminded me of the dark reflection I had faced when performing the Ritual. Except the battle that had followed had taken place entirely within my mind. Furthermore, if a creature had appeared in the shrine, Gric would have told me.
Knowing full well I was jumping to conclusions, I suspected the creature was probably created due to Zhu Min being a Daemonic Cultivator. Besides the shared naming scheme with Heart Demons, there had been a decidedly demonic appearance to the creature.
In the handful of minutes I spent thinking about the problem, the thinner ink-like substance had evaporated and Zhu Min had begun to stir.
Opening her eyes, Zhu Min smiled happily and appeared pleasantly surprised and refreshed. Rising to her feet and smiling all the while, she spent a few minutes stretching her arms and legs. Throwing an experimental punch, Zhu Min quickly followed it up with a rising kick, upsetting one of the incense bowls in the process.
Squeaking in alarm and surprise, Zhu Min leapt after the bowl, diving and intercepting it before it could crash into the wall. Incidentally, she covered herself in the disturbed ash and sand in the process.
Objectively, I could understand her cause for alarm. While the bowls were entirely replaceable, they were made from high-purity jade. Which made them incredibly valuable. The fact that Gric, or Ochram could effortlessly repair or outright reform the bowl was largely beside the point. Especially since Zhu Min was not privy to those particular facts.
Zhu Min Seemed determined to ignore my presence until all five bowls were returned to the storage alcove and the floor was meticulously swept clean.
“I am sorry for my clumsiness, Patriarch...” Zhu Min apologised, blushing intensely with embarrassment.
“It’s fine,” I reassured her. “When you return to your grandfather, inform him that I require a dedicated staff to maintain the shrine and ensure the Ritual is conducted correctly.”
“Of course! Patriarch!” Zhu Min agreed hurriedly, only too eager to obey.
“Thank you, Zhu Min. I will send for you when I have found a suitable instructor,” I promised and then used my authority to send her home.
Returning to the mountaintop, I used my authority to transport Lurr from the hospital and then laid him down beneath the peach tree at the centre of the Arrays.
Drawing on the ambient Thunder-aligned energy, I took Lurr’s hand and began the gruelling cycle of injecting Chi into his body.
After an hour of cycling, Lurr began to stir and I felt a great weight lift off of my shoulders. Even if he required my direct intervention, Lurr would live.
Sometime later, Lurr opened his eyes and stiffly rose off of the ground. “Where?” His one remaining eye darted inquisitively over our surroundings.
“We are within my realm,” I replied, regretting the unintentional vagueness almost immediately. “A large tract of territories currently held separate from Sanctuary,” I added for necessary context.
Lurr slowly nodded in understanding, accepting the situation at face value.
“You don’t have any other questions?” I asked, somewhat perturbed by how readily Lurr’s curiosity had been quenched.
Lurr shook his head.
“How do you feel?” I pressed, shifting the subject to what I hoped would prove to be more fertile ground.
Lurr frowned and grew contemplative. Without warning, electricity arced over his hands and forearms. “This is?...” He looked up at me in what I could best interpret as a ‘mild sense of alarm’.
“Electricity...but that’s not what you wanted to know...” I sat myself down next to him and willed the same electrical discharge to play over my hands as well. “The new energy inside of you, It’s like mana...Except it has ‘this’ connected to it.”
“Mana,” Lurr’s mild concern evaporated and was replaced with one of undeserved confidence.
I wasn’t sure how to break the news, so I decided to go with my tried and true method of just blundering straight through it. “Your old mana is gone, replaced by, this-” I wiggled my fingers for emphasis, causing the electricity to crackle ominously. “-and unfortunately, this mana isn’t regenerating on its own...”
Lurr nodded sombrely, showing he had followed everything thus far and appreciated the danger he was in.
“I created this place to gather the special mana you need,” I motioned to the pillars and the peach tree. “You can probably feel it?” I asked optimistically.
Lurr nodded and glanced at the tree.
“That’s good,” I insisted, feeling a profound sense of relief. “We can work with that.”
“Can’t leave?” Lurr asked, catching me off guard.
“I...I don’t know yet,” I admitted honestly. “This is new ground, Lurr. Frankly, I’m surprised you're even alive...”
Lurr lowered his eyes and nodded. “Was dead...” He grunted quietly.
“You remember?” I asked, surprised at the implications.
Lurr shook his head, “No...Hear voices. Voices say, was dead...” He stared up at me with near fanatical devotion, “Say, Tyrant, bring back.”
“That's...Not entirely wrong...” I couldn’t deny my involvement but wasn’t comfortable with what Lurr was implying.
“This-” Lurr motioned to the surrounding area, “-good. Am alive. Different, not bad,” the wrinkles around his eyes gathered as his lips were drawn into a wide smile. “Am old, life changes,” he shrugged.
“You’re taking it all far better than I would have,” I commented with a deep sigh. “I’ll make arrangements so you can have visitors,” I promised. “Just, make sure not to touch anyone or immerse yourself in water just yet, alright?”
Lurr nodded obediently, “Will obey.”
Offering my forearm, I recruited Lurr for the second time. After conjuring some basic supplies, I left Lurr alone so he could acclimate to his new life.
Reviewing Lurr’s information while sitting at the bottom of the lake, I felt a rising sense of confidence that Lurr would be able to live a relatively normal life. That is, according to Orc standards.
So far as I could tell, Lurr’s stats and Species were the same as they had been before his untimely demise. He had lost his Class and Racial Abilities, but had taken on the Thunder Affinity and gained a handful of ranks in the Eternal Tao instead.
Lurr had also gained a Cultivation Inheritance. However, I strongly suspected that it was at least partially responsible for his underlying condition.
Storm Heart.
An Inheritance that would make him immensely powerful so long as he had Thunder-aligned Chi in the tank. However, he would need to chase the storms to stay alive. Or, have the storms brought to him. Just as I had feared, Lurr would die if he was deprived of Thunder-aligned energy. On the upside, he would be allowed to leave the mountain. Just not for long periods of time.
Of course, this meant that Lurr would need to learn a breathing Technique so he could accelerate his recovery. That, and extend the time he could spend away from the mountain before falling into a coma.
Of course, now that I had confirmed Lurr was under the banner of the Cultivation system, there was a possibility that Gric or Sebet could artificially apply a second Inheritance.
I didn’t have enough of a comparison to know if Daemonic Veins would be of any benefit. But it was worth looking into.
On that train of thought, I had a promise to keep and needed to contact Yi Gim.
As distasteful as it was, I needed to inquire about the going rate of buying a human being...
It came as little surprise that Yi Gim was far less squeamish than I was. While he was by no means particularly enthusiastic, he was open to discussion.
I repeated,
I was confident that Gric and Sebet would be able to root out any spies. Especially if submitting themselves to an inspection was a requirement to accept the position. So I was reasonably confident that the risks would be minimal.
I remained at the bottom of the lake a while longer, taking the opportunity to restore the missing balance of my Chi and MP while monitoring my internal energy.
I hadn’t realised it in the moment, but my Wood-aligned Chi and energy had been just about tapped out. Reflecting upon its absence, I suspected that it was probably the cause of the peach tree’s unexpected growth spurt. The Wood Affinity’s description supported this assumption, but I hadn’t used it in that way before.
In hindsight, I should have realised the role it had played much sooner.
Unlike the Thunder Affinity, recovering the Wood Affinity-aligned Chi was far easier and faster due to Hana’s ever-expanding garden of hybrid plants. Even the regular plantlife generated small amounts, and with so many plants in the vicinity, the quantity provided a certain quality all its own.
Returning to the shore on my way home, I was momentarily taken aback after spotting Pete and Suzy skating across the surface of the lake. Chasing after the Lizardmen hatchlings in what I assumed was a modified version of tag, the twins engaged in dramatically different styles of skating.
While both seemed to be actively controlling the water through their Water Affinity, Pete’s movements were careful and methodical, like a figure skater. In stark contrast, Suzy’s movements were far more aggressive and improvised, reminding me of the few times I had watched ice hockey on television.
I was so engrossed in watching the twins that I didn’t notice Lash until the prow of her canoe narrowly passed by my right ear. She grinned at me unapologetically and began rowing after the twins in earnest, rapidly closing in on them. While her technique was rough, Lash more than made up for her lack of skill with raw enthusiasm and brute strength. Shearing through the water with a speed Olympic athletes would have killed for.
It took me several moments longer to notice Eg, our not quite yet, yet, in all but name, adopted daughter clinging tightly to Lash’s waist for dear life.
Taking Pete and Suzy’s lead, I decided to try and use my Chi to walk on water.
Several failed attempts later and still as buoyant as a boulder, I figured there had to be a fundamental aspect of the trick I still didn’t understand.
After another hour of trial and error, I identified the problem.
I was simply too heavy.
I could support part of the weight of one arm but had nowhere near enough Chi or perhaps Affinity, to support even a tenth of my entire body weight.
Rather than spending the remainder of the evening faffing about on my own, I joined Lash and played with Pete and Suzy instead.
Before putting the twins to bed, I made a point of letting them know how proud I was of their accomplishment. They had adapted to the alternate system far faster than I would have ever expected. It made finding a qualified and trustworthy instructor all the more pressing.
As talented as my children had proven themselves to be, I didn’t want them accidentally hurting themselves. Or god forbid, accidentally hurting someone else.
Eg and the other Ogre children could probably walk off most typical injuries. But the other variant children probably couldn’t. Especially the Humans and the imminent wave of hybrids. That was before gaining Chi and Affinities, which would only multiply the existing dangers in who knew how many possible ways.
It was taking a little getting used to with Eg sleeping in our bed.
Specifically, because she slept with both eyes open, and resting her head on Lash’s chest left her staring right at me.
As deeply unsettling as it was, I did my best to just ignore her and sleep.
That was when I learned Eg suffered from night terrors...
Watching Lash gently rock Eg back to sleep, I was forced to appreciate how easy Suzy and Pete had been as infants.
Just the thought of raising a regular human child in this world was enough to bring me to the precipice of having a panic attack.
With a handful of nonconsecutive hours of sleep under my belt, I made myself, the twins and Eg as presentable as possible and then took them to the Dwergi arena. Lash would join us later, but I wanted to give her another few hours of sleep.
As concerning as the reality made me, I had grown strangely acclimated to going without regular sleep. At least concerning not feeling tired.
With Eg shyly clinging to Pete, and Pete behaving himself, they made it that much easier to keep an eye on Suzy as she raced through the small marketplace of the arena.
To their credit, the merchants, stall vendors and other visitors took Suzy’s insatiable curiosity in stride. No doubt, a considerable element of their patience and understanding was the result of her status, and I had an obvious bias. However, I was convinced that a few of the Dwergi merchants were truly pleased by Suzy’s unfiltered stream of questions regarding their products.
Even if it was just an excuse to gush over the quality of their products concerning their competitors.
It probably didn’t hurt when I bought the children a small number of gifts from their stores either.
After touring the market, we were escorted by one of the Dwergi council members to a massive viewing box in the arena.
Huge amounts of food and drink were laid out on a table at the back of the viewing box and the kids wasted no time in casually grazing its contents while comparing their gifts.
While the children were otherwise occupied, several large stone thrones were created using magic and then padded with massive cushions.
“If there is any way we may be of service, please, do not hesitate to ask, my Tyrant!” Drislek, the Dwergi council member, insisted proudly. “Additional refreshments will be provided as needed.” He spared a wrinkled glance toward the children and smiled with a grandfatherly air before seeing himself out.
“Daddy!” Suzy crashed into my thigh with deliberate force and waved the whistling staff I had bought for her. True to its name, the air passing through the small holes at the end of the staff made a keening whistling sound according to how hard Suzy waved the staff about. “Listen! Hehe!”
“It makes a whistling noise, doesn’t it?” I asked, leaning down and raising her onto my shoulder.
“Mhm! Whistle!” Suzy waved the staff even harder, accidentally clipping my ear before changing pace.
I pursed my lips and whistled a short tune, nearly causing Suzy to topple off my shoulder in surprise.
“Daddy whistle?!” Suzy exclaimed in bewilderment, grabbing at my lips with her free hand and looking inside my mouth for the source of the whistle. Unable to find the invisible whistle, Suzy frowned and huffed indignantly. “Daddy trick!” She accused, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
I pursed my lips and whistled again.
Suzy stared at my mouth in surprise.
A second whistle derailed Suzy’s investigation, drawing both of our collective attention toward Pete and Eg who were sitting on the floor by the table.
Eg shied back under the unexpected attention but was too late to conceal her musical talent.
“Eg whistle?” Suzy scratched at her scalp in confusion.
Eg released a short peep, drawing Pete’s attention as well.
“Show Suzy!” Suzy demanded, aggressively leaping off of my shoulder and toward Eg. However, I was able to snatch her out of the air before she could frighten Eg any further.
“Suzy, look at me,” I insisted firmly and pointed to my mouth. “Just copy me, okay?”
Suzy nodded emphatically.
I made a show of pursing my lips. “Just pinch your lips together like this, then blow with your breath,” I explained and then released a warbling whistle.
Suzy took a deep breath, pursed her lips, and then blew an incredibly wet raspberry directly into my face. Her face fell, “No whistle?”
“Try breathing more gently,” I suggested, taking a few slow breaths as an example.
Suzy nodded determinedly and proceeded to blow another raspberry in my face.
To be fair, I now realised that it may not have been entirely her fault. While Eg had tusks like the rest of us, hers were far smaller and were able to fit under her upper lip. Suzy’s tusks were much longer and she couldn't do that. Which made it difficult for her to form a seal on the sides of her mouth. Inevitably resulting in a great deal of spit flying into my face.
Pete made a short peep and immediately proved me wrong.
Lowering Suzy to the floor, I let her pester Pete for his secret.
Roughly half an hour, and three small-scale tantrums later, Suzy had gotten the hang of it and the trio were competing to see who could whistle the loudest.
It was only after Lash arrived another hour later, that I realised teaching Suzy to whistle may not have been the best idea when Lash was already somewhat on edge due to a lack of sleep.
Watching the semi-finals wasn’t particularly entertaining. Most matches were determined through gruelling attrition, drawn-out games of cat and mouse, or a handful of strikes made with objectively excessive force.
It didn’t help that only a single contestant capable of casting Spells had managed to qualify for the semi-finals.
Magic had a fantastical quality about it that spoiled more mundane combat’s potential entertainment value through direct comparison. There was no getting around that.
Keith had proven an exception.
Keith’s matches were incredibly short. Armed with a short sword and a fistful of small knives, he wasn’t interested in fighting fair or even showcasing his potential. The moment each match started, Keith went for an artery. Even going so far as to accept grievous wounds to trade for otherwise fatal ones against his opponents.
With Sebet’s Contracts providing insurance against death and otherwise permanent harm, Keith fought like an absolute psychopath.
The scarred elf had downed Orcs and Gnolls more than three times his size by matching their raw savagery and pitting incredible speed against brute strength. He avoided decapitation and dismemberment by inches so he could bleed his opponents out and secure victory.
Unfortunately for Keith, those aggressive and suicidal tactics didn’t work against Trask.
As tall as an Orc, twice as heavy and covered in thick hide and hard emerald scales, Trask was a living tank. One of the few Lizardmen that regularly left Sanctuary and hunted in my Labyrinth, Trask’s matches had been far more boring to watch. Armed only with a morningstar, he had defeated every one of his opponents with a single strike or forcing a forfeit by triggering special clauses in Sebet’s Contracts.
Lacking the raw Strength needed to pierce Trask’s armoured hide, Keith was slowly worn down and worked into a corner.
With all the patience of a cold-blooded predator, Trask didn’t rush his inevitable victory. He took no chances, guarding his eyes and keeping his mouth firmly shut to avoid exposing any weaknesses.
Cornered, all but disarmed and no doubt thoroughly exhausted, Keith didn’t give in. Even after Trask pulped Keith’s left arm with the head of his morningstar, Keith continued fighting.
With Keith as injured as he was, it didn’t take Trask much longer to deliver the final blow and secure the top-ranking position in the tournament.
As the host of the tournament, I allowed the Dwergi council to announce the rewards given to the top-ranking participants. The Quest had made the physical rewards available already, but I felt it would be more appropriate if the audience was given a reminder regarding what the participants had been fighting for.
I performed the promotions to Underlord in person.
As the undisputed victor of the tournament, Trask’s promotion earned the loudest applause. But the others were not forgotten.
In second place, and something of a dark horse, Keith received only slightly less applause.
If Gnar was upset about taking third place, he didn’t show it. Every matriarch of the Gnoll Faction, Rikit included, had witnessed his accomplishments and I wouldn’t be surprised if Gnar was Bonded before sunset. The tournament had literally demonstrated that Gnar was superior to just about every other male in his pack, and showed just how strong he truly was. There wouldn’t be many males that could compete against his credentials.
If Brok wasn’t already taken, he would probably be in a similar position to Gnar. Orcs did things differently, but ranking fourth overall, and first of your Species carried significant weight.
Itzal, the only female finalist and Spellcaster that had made it to the semi-finals, was positively beaming with pride, and I couldn’t fault her for it. As a Venomancer, she had been at an extreme disadvantage against opponents with high Toughness, and as a Naga, she lacked the mobility to outmanoeuvre melee-specialised opponents in such open terrain. Except for Keith, Itzal had been more than ten levels lower than the other finalists.
All things considered, she had done incredibly well for herself, and with her winnings, Itzal was sure to do even better in the days to come.
Of all the finalists, only Keith appeared to be upset with his placement. Despite being in a painfully similar boat to Itzal, and receiving slightly fewer rewards than Trask, Keith gave off an air that left the impression he had been somehow robbed of what he felt he deserved. However, for all of his anger, he didn’t lash out at the other finalists.
The more I watched him, the more certain I became that Keith was actually upset with himself. That he had somehow let someone down and blamed himself for it. For some unknown reason, he had NEEDED first place. And after doing everything in his power to achieve that goal, he had come up short.
Having made my public appearance, I withdrew to the private viewing box and returned with my family to The Grove. After seeing them settled, I relocated myself somewhere private so I could address the tournament winners without fear of being overheard.
One by one, I Summoned Trask, Keith, Gnar, Brok and Itzal. Opting for projections so their true selves could enjoy the limelight of their respective accomplishments.
Without being asked, Trask, Gnar, Brok and Itzal bowed their heads.
Keith just stared up at me in confusion. Making no attempts at hiding expectations that he, and most of the others, should not be here.
Then it clicked.
I understood why Keith was so upset at placing second in the tournament. Someone had leaked the true purpose of the tournament. What's more, they had made a mistake while doing so.
Initially, I had intended to take only one champion. I had just the one slot available from The Tyrant’s Fists Class Ability at the time. Things have changed since then. Most notably, the Ability had ranked up and doubled the total number of people I could nominate.
The tournament had always been intended to find worthy candidates, and what Keith had apparently not been told was that the selection criteria had never been restricted to who came first.
“Who told you?” I asked curiously, intent on getting straight to the meat of the matter.
“The Devil...” Keith muttered sourly. “Said you would make the winner your champion...” He looked pointedly at the other finalists and then back at me. “She lied, didn’t she?”
“She certainly didn’t tell the whole truth,” I agreed tersely, connecting another one of the dots. “Is this why you joined my expeditionary force?”
“I needed levels...” Keith replied shamelessly, “Couldn’t get them on my own...”
“You could have teamed up,” I countered dryly. “Even if you insisted on excluding the Humans, you would have no shortage of potential teammates.”
“Too slow...Even with the Contracts, they won’t take risks...” Keith sneered irritably. “The expedition was the only way.”
“Which leads me to the most pressing question of all,” I levelled my gaze at Keith and made it clear that I wouldn’t tolerate any half-assed answers. “Why is it that you so badly want to become my champion? You do realise that the position would require you to fight for the interests of ALL of my subjects and your fellow citizens? You wouldn’t be allowed to just pick and choose who is and is not deserving.”
“I know that...” Keith replied grimacing and contorting his scarred face in frustration. “But I could be out there freeing other Slaves!-”
“Some of which would be human,” I interjected, carefully studying his reaction.
Keith’s right eye twitched as he took a deep breath and calmed himself down. “I know that,” he repeated stiffly.
“You aren’t making a convincing case for why I should choose you as a champion,” I explained patiently, appreciating the fact that Keith had kept his arguably justified xenophobia in check thus far.
“I can’t forgive them for what they have done to us!” Keith snapped bitterly, twisting his lips into a savage snarl.
“I don’t expect you to,” I interjected calmly. “I don’t expect you to forget what has happened either. However, if you want to be my champion and wield power in my name, you need to separate the evil actions of the guilty from those who had no hand in it.” I took a moment to align my thoughts. “It’s difficult, I know that, and I know that you are aware that many of the empire’s Human refugees were directly or indirectly involved in the Slave trade. Either owning a Slave or somehow benefitting from a Slave’s labour. However, it’s not a simple issue where you can just point the finger at whoever you feel like and decide they are the ones to blame and deserving of punishment.”
Keith scowled but stiffly nodded his head. “I understand...The sins of the few do not belong to all, but when I look at them-” He clenched his fists and grimaced, “I remember EVERYTHING...”
I slowly shook my head in disappointment. No matter how justified he felt in his anger, Keith was only making a stronger argument against his viability as an ideal candidate. He was a ticking time bomb of raw nerves and righteous anger just waiting for the right trigger.
This was ironic, because the same reasons that gave me misgivings in trusting Keith with a fraction of my power, were the reasons I didn’t trust myself.
***** Oba Shoji ~ Feng Liao’s Interdimensional Plane ~ Thousand Gardens City *****
Broken, bloody and defeated, Oba Shoji could only blink back tears as his grandson was crippled before his eyes. The foundation of his Cultivation damaged beyond the skill of all but the greatest healers’ ability to reverse.
What had begun as nothing more than an argument between the hotblooded youth of the rising generation, had all too quickly escalated to the brink of open war with the Xiao clan and its allies.
Already outsiders and without support or allies of their own, Oba Shoji and his clansmen had debased themselves to preserve the clan. They had surrendered everything, even their dignity to prevent a war. Even then, it hadn’t been enough.
The Xiao dogs had reneged on their promises, discarding their honour and seizing young Sora.
Unwilling to simply allow the honourless curs to simply do as they pleased, Oba Shoji and the other elders of the clan had tried to rescue his grandson. To his immense shame and regret, they had failed.
Too cruel to grant his clan a swift death, the Xiao bastards had left them to rot and die a slow agonising death in the long shadows of the city’s rancid bowels.
Already, the boldest of the rats had begun testing them, probing for the greatest place of weakness so they might fall upon the most vulnerable of the clan.
Broken as they were, the elders would hold them back for a time. But it would only be for a time.
The rats of the city were beyond counting, and they had no qualms in climbing over the bodies of their fallen. Just as content to feed on their own while preparing for the final feast.
In his heart, Oba Shoji knew that the clan’s days were numbered.
“Clan leader!” Yasui Tadashi, one of the few servants who had refused to abandon the clan, rushed down the broken cobblestone street with a piece of parchment clutched tightly in his hand.
Broken as they were, the warriors and elders of the clan peered out from their hiding places and followed Yasui’s progress with grim finality. Accepting the inevitable doom that was about to befall them.
No doubt, the Xiao dogs had grown impatient and intended to visit further humiliation upon them before delivering the final blow.
After all, what else could compel a servant as old as Yasui to run as if chased by a host of needle vipers?
“Clan leader!” Yasui repeated breathlessly, pushing aside the rotting shade cloth that served as the door to Oba Shoji’s hovel. “Clan leader, you must read this!” The elderly servant insisted, bowing and earnestly presenting the rolled parchment in both hands.
“Have they made more demands?” Oba Shoji grunted darkly, “Do they dare lay claim to the daughters of the clan? They have no shame! Heavens curse them!”
“Clan leader, the heavens may yet smile upon the Oba clan!” Yasui declared with undeserved optimism that bordered on outright delusion.
All the same, he had piqued Oba Shoji’s interest. Accepting the parchment, Oba Shoji gingerly unfurled its length while ignoring the pain emanating from his broken fingers.
Three bodies of text marked the surface of the parchment, each written in one of the primary languages of the core realms.
Oba Shoji was experienced enough with the other two languages that he could understand their intent but defaulted to his native tongue as both a matter of personal preference and the flagging demands from what remained of his pride.
“Where did you find this?” Oba Shoji demanded.
“I came across a small party of visitors from an allied realm in the sunfire petal market, clan leader. They were posting these notices on every available space they could find,” Yasui reported diligently. “Talk in the market claimed that the visitors had also made several small speeches, but I had not witnessed as much for myself.”
“You saw these visitors?” Oba Shoji pressed, unwilling to take the contents of the parchment at face value.
Yasui bobbed his head. “Yes, clan leader. I know my eyes are not what they used to be, but they appeared incredibly earnest in their duties.”
If their situation were not nearly so dire, Oba Shoji would have laughed at Yasui’s claims of failing vision. He knew for a fact that the old servant’s eyes were as shrewd as ever, Even without a talent for Cultivation, Yujiro’s line had impeccably resilient vitality.
“If it was not for the Oaths, this recruitment notice couldn’t be anything else but a trap,” Oba Shoji contemplated aloud while reading through the expected requirements and promised benefits.
“Others in the market expressed similar sentiments, clan leader,” Yujiro agreed supportively. “Many were convinced it was some form of scam...However, they carry the Golden Dragon’s seal alongside the seal of their own Monarch, the Azure Shark.”
“Are you sure of this?” Oba Shoji demanded, already weighing the risks against what little the clan had left to lose.
Yujiro raised his head and met his lord’s eyes, “Yes, clan leader, I am certain of it.” True to his word, Yujiro emanated unimpeachable certainty.
“Very well,” Oba Shoji had made up his mind. “Inform the elders to draw back the perimeter. No one is to leave or enter until I return.”
After changing into the most presentable of the clothing that remained to him, Oba Shoji left the slums and made straight for the lilting orchid winehouse. As the established drinking establishment for city law enforcement and visitors to the city, it was the most likely location he would be able to find the servants of the Azure Shark Monarch.
A clear sign that the clan’s luck was changing for the better, Oba Shoji laid eyes on the recruiting party just as they were leaving the Winehouse.
After taking a moment to address his appearance, Oba Shoji committed to his final approach.
Five in all, the recruiting party leader was of the third rank and his subordinates were of the second. This came as a surprise given the suspicion and paranoia that marked the character of all Monarchs. However, after taking a few moments to scan the surrounding area with his spiritual senses, Oba Shoji quickly realised that the recruiters had a dedicated escort that outnumbered them three to one and were all of the third rank.
The recruiters were by no means unaware of their escort and even exchanged courteous nods with their presumed counterparts.
With confirmation that the recruitment had the implicit consent of the Realm’s Monarch, a substantial degree of risk was removed from the equation.
Realm migration was incredibly rare and often dangerous. The paranoia of the Monarchs levied a presumption of guilt upon those attempting to leave just as readily as those attempting to enter. Making the job of Realm sentries much simpler if they defaulted to summary execution for anyone lacking even a single form of requested identification and certification.
As Oba Shoji expected, he was identified and became the recruiters’ focus the instant he stepped onto the street. Even with his injuries and advanced age, he was still a fifth-rank Cultivator. Even if he wanted to do so, there was little Oba Shoji could do to hide his presence at such a close range.
Rather than becoming intimidated, the recruiters grew excited and their leader eagerly moved forward to meet him halfway.
“Greetings,” the head recruiter placed one fist in the other and bowed respectfully. “I am Yu Seon-Geuk, representative of the esteemed Monarch, Yi Gim, long may he reign! Might I ask your name, esteemed senior?”
Oba Shoji returned the greeting, forcing the pain from his battered back through sheer force of will. “This senior is Oba Shoji,” he replied politely, unwilling to risk upsetting the man despite the unwanted reminder of his age and increasingly distant youth. “An esteemed representative of a Monarch need not bother themselves by bowing to one such as myself.”
The recruiter stared at Oba Shoji appraisingly for several heartbeats and then his smile became markedly more genuine. “Thank you, senior, I am gladdened by the respect you show for my master.” He bowed his head slightly in respect. “Please excuse my impertinence, but might I ask if the cause for our meeting is related to our recruitment notices?” He asked, positively brimming with expectation.
“I must admit that it is,” Oba Shoji replied politely. “However, I have several concerns that were not fully addressed by the contents of the notice,” he held up the furled parchment for emphasis.
“Then please, raise your concerns and I shall do my best to lay them to rest,” the recruiter insisted eagerly, motioning toward the Winehouse.
Despite his outward demeanour, the recruiter quickly proved that there were certain aspects of the notice that he was forbidden to discuss in greater detail. Most notably, who would be the recipient of said instruction.
Testing the waters to determine how many of the clan would be allowed to accompany each instructor, Oba Shoji was taken aback when the recruiter insisted that there was no limit. So long as they were members of the clan, the agreement between the Monarchs had no upper limits.
Similar to the topic regarding the intended patron, the subject of compensation was blunt, but also unexpectedly intriguing. While the recruiter apologised for not being at liberty to discuss the particulars, beyond a guaranteed plot of land, there was an unexpected glint of what Oba Shoji could only interpret as envy in the recruiter’s eyes.
This told Oba Shoji two things. First, that he was almost certainly sworn to silence, and second, that the compensation was sufficient to not only warrant special precautions, but it also made a third rank Cultivator desire the opportunity for themself.
The desires of first and even early second rank Cultivators were often firmly focused on the mundane. A desperate scramble to accumulate wealth as a means of acquiring power. Third rank Cultivators were another breed entirely.
Powerful enough to take what they wanted from first and second rank Cultivators, they had little need for such small levels of wealth. Third rank Cultivators had the greed of dragons in their hearts and wouldn’t show such overt envy and desire for anything less than a merchant’s life savings or a hidden cache of ancient herbs.
Becoming increasingly convinced that it was precisely the opportunity his clan needed to not only survive but perhaps even thrive. Oba Shoji’s inquiries were cut short as a fat balding pig in expensive silks threw open the door to the Winehouse.
“OBA FILTH! YOU DARE TEST OUR XIAO CLAN’S MERCY AND LEAVE YOUR RAT HOLE?!” The quintuple-chinned man demanded, sweat already beading his brow from the mere effort required to open the door. He pulled a heavy cudgel from his belt and leapt forward with incredible speed.
In his battered condition, Oba Shoji barely rose from the table before the fat man’s head was sent tumbling to the floor.
The lead recruiter, now standing behind the headless corpse, cleaned his sword with a swatch of cloth and then returned it to its sheath.
A handful of heartbeats later, five of the observers stationed outside rushed into the Winehouse and surrounded the lead recruiter.
“Apologies, honoured guides, but it appears that a stray boar has entered the city and I was forced to put it down,” he bowed respectfully, and carefully withdrew a pouch from within the confines of his formal robes. “For your troubles,” he tossed the bag to one of the observers and then withdrew another, slightly larger pouch, “For the inconvenience such a mess will no doubt cause your superiors.” he tossed the bag to the same man, forcing the recipient to sheath their sword or lose out on what was obviously intended as a bribe. “And lastly, to wet your throats. As I am certain chasing this beast and disposing of its remains will prove quite tiring,” a third and considerably larger pouch quickly joined the others.
Peeking quickly inside each pouch, the observer very nearly dropped them in surprise.
Despite not being able to see the contents, with the pouches open and their concealment Arrays compromised, Oba Shoji’s spiritual senses were more than adequate to discern what lay within. However, he simply couldn’t bring himself to believe it. The pouches were packed to bursting with what could only be the highest-grade of Spirit Stones!
The observers exchanged furtive looks with one another and nodded almost imperceptibly in agreement.
A spokesman stepped forward for the group and bowed his head slightly in polite greeting. “As a representative of his most majestic Golden Dragon, I thank you stranger for preventing further damage to public and private properties of the city.” He bowed again, and this time was joined by his fellows.
Without saying another word, the spokesman waved his hand over the corpse, absorbing it into a Spatial Ring, and then left with his compatriots in tow.
Oba Shoji couldn’t help but stare at the broken door. “That was a small fortune...” He breathed incredulously. Unable to comprehend how even a Monarch’s representative could cast such a thing away without so much as a second thought.
“Several fortunes,” the lead recruiter corrected good-naturedly as he returned to their table. “Such trifles lose their lustre when compared to true treasures,” he commented with the unmistakable hunger and desire returning to his eyes as he gazed upon something Oba Shoji could only guess at. “Provided you accept my magnanimous Monarch’s offer, I have no doubts that you will come to share our point of view.
Looking at the rest of the group, Oba Shoji could see the same greed burning just as fiercely in their eyes and knew that if he passed up this opportunity, it would be no different to spitting in the face of the heavens themselves. “When can we leave?”