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Chapter 441
🕑 Added 2022-05-16 19:50:23 +0000 UTCEnjoy!
ToC
* * *
Vess led the march away from the smoldering ruins of the Rellest Estate, through the wide thoroughfares of the Risen Ward without a care to be quiet or cautious. Her strike force was at her back, leading two dozen Paladins in chains and twice as many servants and retainers, and the thud of boots and rattle of shackles was enough to wake the dead. Just as she intended.
Porticoes filled with well-dressed nobles at every mansion they passed, while laborers and workers came to the windows at shops and crafting halls, all of them staring with wide eyes at their procession. Soon the bravest of them joined the march, trailing behind like a caravan's train, their curious chatter soon drawing even more to their fold. By the time they reached the skydocks, it was was as if half the city followed in their wake.
Vess led them down into the even broader avenues around the docks, pressing through a madhouse of activity. Laborers wearing the livery of House Iretus hauled wagons of stone and sodden sand to the edge of the city, where a large scaffolding had been erected around the broken length of one of the skydocks. Others clustered around a large Manaship, now mostly repaired, where a familiar figure stood upon the quarterdeck and blazed with Mana. The laborers halted and Felix's bright blue eyes fixed on them almost immediately. Vess' Perception allowed her to see his tight frown as he cut off his spellform.
"Company, halt!" Harn commanded, and their procession ceased. "Prisoners, forward." Claw members hauled on chains, pulling the near hundred prisoners upward, until only Vess, Evie, and Harn stood before them. The crowd and Claw remained at their back.
A sharp retort cut through the afternoon air, and Vess found Felix standing beside her. He was back to wearing his dark blue jacket and green tunic, and the lot of it was smudged heavily with dirt and some sort of shiny grease. Vess looked down in time to see a surge of dusty-brown Mana patch over the small crater he'd punched into the road. Felix noticed and smirked. "So what's this?"
Vess held up the green-gold crystal and waggled it. "We found them."
"All of them?"
"Everyone that was at the Rellest Estate. That's him there," Vess said, pointing out a man that was only just being woken up now. "Zevan Rellest. Merchant and minor noble. We found him attempting to escape from us with a group of Paladins, and more than a few of the man's people attacked us during detainment."
"Why are they here, then? Why not take them back to the jail cells?" Felix's gaze took in the prisoners, and then the crowd beyond them. "Why the show?"
"Because I demanded to Plead Before Authority," the Matron said loudly again.
Felix grunted sourly. "Matron of the Highest Flame. Still standing."
Members of House Iretus, soldiers now, appeared from the dock buildings. Beef did as well, wiping his hands with a large rag, a curiously furtive look on his bovine features. Captain Landas himself sidled up to Felix and looked ready to spit at the Matron's feet. For her part, the Urge-worshipper remained stoic—even her Spirit was a calm, steady tone.
Felix swiped at something, likely a message from his Authority Screen informing him about the right to Plead. His frown deepened. "Say your piece, then."
"I am innocent of all accusations, my Lord." The Matron's voice was high and proud, a fine match for her ageless features. She lifted her chin a touch more. "I was forced into compliance by the wretched Paladins of the Pathless, and bound by Oaths to Lord Rellest."
An explosion of sound came from the prisoners, though mainly from the Paladins themselves. "Bullshit! You contacted us!"
Felix raised an eyebrow, but the Matron was unfazed. "Would you believe their word? Their twisted god has turned them against everything that is decent and honorable. They attacked and razed our city! It is they who orchestrated the recent attacks, they who coerced me into providing them aid and support."
"She lies," rasped another voice. Vess saw Lord Rellest stand on shaky legs, bound in chains and collared. "That bitch found me, told me exactly what to do and how to do it. She's the one who hired the Sworn, who masterminded all of this!"
The green-gold crystal vanished from Vess' hands, plucked by Felix as he strode forward and held it aloft. He stepped to the Matron, who only slightly flinched at his approach. The crystal shimmered several shades lighter, pulsing with an inner light. The arrogant tilt of her chin twitched, faltering just slightly. "Hm," was all he said.
He moved on. Trailing next down the line of Paladins, Vess watched the crystal fade in vibrancy, as if each step took him further away from its target. Until the opposite happened, and it slowly began to brighten. The Paladins, as if in contrast to the Matron, were almost shaking as they stared at Felix's impressive size and sharp, black talons. He, however, ignored them. Then he reached Lord Rellest. Vess had been convinced the crystal had glowed bright for the Matron, but now it positively blazed. As if Felix held a mote of pure sunlight, the crystal ignited into an incandescent ball that flickered wildly.
Lord Rellest's face screwed up in confusion. "What is the meaning of this, Lord Autarch? Is this blinding lightshow for simple theatrics, or are we proceeding with a proper handling of justice? That woman enslaved my entire household! I'd have her chained and hung from the Council portico by sunset! I—"
"Stop," Felix said. His words weren't loud, but it silenced the merchant lord as if he'd screamed. "Even if I didn't have this, which shows the origin of the Oath the Sworn gave, I could hear the lie in your Spirit. Your fear outweighs the false outrage you've mustered up, and not even your...Journeyman Tier Deception can convince me otherwise."
Rellest opened and closed his mouth several times, but all that came out was a jumble of vowels. "Ah. Uh. But I—"
"When I removed this Oath from the Sworn," Felix said, talking over the man. "His body crumbled to ash. What do you think will happen when it's returned to you?"
"You cannot be serious, my Lord! I—"
"Let's find out."
There was a sound like shattering glass, and the light of the crystal winked out...before a vivid cord of silver manifested in its place and wrapped viciously around Lord Rellest. The man had a moment to scream, but was too shocked to utter a word. And then it was too late; the silver cord slithered across his chest and neck and mouth, its ephemeral glow proven to have true heft and weight as it dimpled his Tempered flesh and thick clothes.
"Mercy!" someone cried from the crowd. "Have mercy!"
Vess watched with grim satisfaction as the man turned red, then purple before collapsing to the ground. The silver cord thickened and turned a fetid black as the merchant's bulk was rendered down to nothing, his flesh collapsing in on itself within his voluminous garb, until he stopped moving entirely.
"All choices have consequences," Felix said.
Felix's face was a thunderhead, and his Spirit lashed in a strange, circular anger. Vess couldn't parse it, but it was just as intense as the crystalline light, and as dark as the thread that coiled like a well-fed snake before him. He reached out and seized the cord with his dark hands, and everyone around him backed up as far as they could. "This is your reward for betrayal. This is what comes from caring only for power and prestige and titles piled atop your name." His eyes flashed, glowing so bright in the gloomy afternoon it was a wonder those closer were not burnt. The writhing cord turned to smoke, pulled inexorably into Felix's channels. "I did not come to Ahkestria to ruin your lives, and I certainly didn't come to kill your council or your god. I arrived in peace, and was met by suspicion, violence, and betrayal. So no. I will not be showing mercy today.
"Your turn, Matron."
The woman blanched and tried to take a step backward, but was arrested by Harn and Evie.
He stalked across the square, violence written large across his stance for anyone with a Mind to think. The Paladins, however, proved their true nature. As one, the two dozen warriors of the vaunted Pathless surged forward, throwing off the restraining hands of the Claw around them for only a moment. Enough for them to attack the Lord Autarch with gauntleted hands and the crushing grip of their Tempered Bodies. Vess blinked, too shocked at their stupidity to catch all of what transpired, for in the next instant several bystanders in the crowd were thrown back as the wind whipped into a mighty gale...and Felix stood, hair swaying, exactly where he had before.
And every single Paladin was dead.
"I told you," he growled, and Vess wasn't sure who he was speaking to: himself or the crowd. "No mercy."
Relentless, the Autarch stepped to the Matron, whose disbelieving gaze could barely tear itself away from the Paladins' bloody corpses. "You're strong. To have survived your Urge's fall, you must have had a significant amount of power outside of your Blessings." The aloof expression on her face melted as she gasped in sudden pain. Felix's head tilted. "A hall of clouds and the brilliant sun. It's dimmed, but it still burns bright enough."
The red-haired Urge-worshipper stared at him, aghast. "Y-you can delve, too? Who are you?"
"I'm the only chance you have. I give you a choice, one that the Paladins gave up when they chose to attack just now. One that Rellest forfeited by contracting the Sworn in the first place."
"A choice," she echoed, disbelief loud in her Spirit.
"I will always give a choice, but only once. I'm too tired to dance with you and those with eyes bigger than their stomachs." Felix pulled his hooked blade from his waist, leveling it at the Matron's neck as if preparing to anoint her...or perform an execution. "Serve my chosen Chancellor without guile or ulterior, self-serving motives. Serve the people, all the people, of Ahkestria and this Territory. Bind yourself to an Oath. Or die."
The Matron swallowed, loudly. "A choice between incarceration or death? That is not much of a choice, Autarch."
"And it's all you'll get," he said, levelly.
Silence stretched over the square. The crowd did not whisper, the soldiers did not shift or scratch, and few even breathed. There was only the rumble of thunder, and the constant patter of drizzling rain. Until stone scraped, and the Matron fell to a single knee.
"I will serve, Lord Autarch," she muttered.
"Yes," he said. "Yes you will."
* * *
The next few hours went by with far less commotion. Less drama, at least. Felix was frankly just happy that he hadn't been required to kill anyone else.
Breathe, he murmured inwardly. Meditation sang in his core space, not his most powerful Skill but useful in the boost it gave to his regeneration. It was also useful in how it helped him clear his Mind, even after a day like the one he'd had.
The memory of dead Paladins splashed across his thoughts, vivid thanks to his Born Trait. He shied away, not squeamish so much as hateful. He hated killing them, and an unreasoning anger kicked back to life in his chest. He had done it to prevent worse from happening to the people of Ahkestria, and to Nagast. No Paladin could escape to tell them what happened there. Only then could they remain safe.
The nobles of the city, and the rules of the Hierocracy were equally powerhungry, proving themselves willing to simple take and take and take, until nothing was left. Until the weakest were used up, rendered into fuel for their own advancement.
So Felix wouldn't let them. At every turn, he would deny them all.
The Matron had accepted his offer, and when he extended it to the retainers and servants of House Rellest, they too took the knee. Now all of them were under an Oath of Willing Service, as the System had dubbed it, binding all of their advancement to the fulfillment of the Oath and remaining faithful to the spirit of it.
He had considered tying their lives to the Oath, but that was both too far and not enough. But their power? The very lever by which they held themselves higher than others? All of them, and the Matron especially, cared more for their advancement than their lives.
Then he had gotten his people moving back to the estate to finish packing up what they needed. He'd met with Klzix and explained his new aids, but for the most part let his Chancellor take charge of things back at the Grandmaster's—ah, the Chancellor's Estate. Klzix had a number of tasks he had to accomplish, not the least of which was communing with the Seat and Seal beneath the former Grandmaster's lowest basement.
All of which freed Felix up to continue aiding Beef and House Iretus with ship construction. Now, however, they were ready. Finally. So as the sun set on the overcast horizon, he took a moment to escape from everyone.
Just breathe. He settled into Meditation again, focusing on relaxing his Body and Mind. He was balanced atop a piece of scaffolding, listening to the rumble of thunder and the cry of sharp-voiced seabirds. The smell of freshwater filled everything; the air, his lungs, the sky. He tried to sink into it, to simply be for a while.
"Felix!"
He cracked open his eye, and saw Beef sitting on the scaffolding stairs below him. "Yeah?"
"Can I talk to you?"
Felix took a single measured breath, and rolled backward, off the thin scaffolding and into the open air. He grabbed at the sky with a tether of Adamant Discord, slowing his descent with a flash of electrical discharge, and landed lightly on the flexible stairwell. Well, lightly for him. The entire structure was made of chitin thanks to Beef, flexed a lot more than wood, and thanks to his considerable weight the whole thing rippled like the sea below them.
"Whoa!" Beef said, grabbing at a support beam to steady himself. Felix stood from his soft-kneed crouch, tilting his hips in time with the swaying scaffolding. "How heavy are you?"
"Have you seen any scales on the Continent?" Felix asked.
"Oh. Uh, no. I guess not." Beef suddenly snapped his fingers. "No wait! I have. You could use those wagon scales I saw on the other side of the docks! You can't weigh more than a wagon, right?"
"Beef. What's up? I'm..." Felix wanted to say tired, but admitting that felt pointless. Of course he was. They all were, especially after the last few hectic hours building their fleet. Beef himself was slicked in sweat that smelled more of Mana Potions than Minotaur stink. "What's up?" he repeated.
"Hey, so the ships are ready. I finished the last mizzlemast or whatever just now."
"Mizzenmast," Felix corrected offhand. "Are you okay? I know using Chitin Construction is draining for you."
"What?" Beef puffed up his chest. "I've never been better! Plus I've got these beautiful boys," he said, patting a hard case at his hip. All but two of the glass potion bottles were empty. "I can go all day with these."
"Not all day, but they help," Felix said. Less and less each time to drink them in a row, of course. "But good. Glad you're alright. We have a long way to go tonight, and I'll need you to be alert."
"Alert? For what?"
"More Fathom spawn, if my luck holds out," Felix muttered. He scrubbed his face with the heels of his hands. The hard edges of his scales felt nice on his skin. "Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? Finishing the ships?"
"No. I mean yes, but also...also no." Beef took a breath, his big, chitin-covered chest expanding like a bellows. "I think—"
A high, intense call sounded into the air. It was loud, piercing in a way that had nothing to do with his ears, and filled with such vivacity that Felix felt his exhaustion retreat just a touch. He looked up and away from the docks they'd built below, away from the fleet of ships, and up the crystal-laden cliff of Ahkestria. Zara stood there, along with his many, many peoples.
They were ready.
"Finally. God damn it. Finally." Felix slapped Beef on the back, excitement welling up in him. "C'mon. It's time to leave this damn city."
