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The Simulacrum - Chapter 142 - Part 2 - Final
🕑 Added 2024-04-17 14:39:11 +0000 UTC[Author's Note]
Hello, dear readers!
Since the overwhelming majority of voters and comments were in favor of keeping Percival alive one way or another, I updated the chapter part. I think this version works pretty well, but if you have further feedback, it's always welcome.
[/Author's Note]
…
Honestly speaking, I really didn't want to deal with any of this.
No, really. I made a big deal out of drama, upholding tension, and so on, but what I really wanted to do was to just grab Percival, throw him into a volcano, and then clean up everything, sit down at home, and organize my thoughts in peace and quiet.
I was tired. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to do any of this. I still had to, and it was driving me nuts, so the best I could do was to get it over with as quickly yet theatrically as possible. As such, I walked closer to the black-armoured knight and pressed on before he could respond.
"As a traitor, I cannot allow you to choose the time and venue of the Arbitration duel, so we're going to fight here and now," I stated emphatically. "Since you can't reasonably be expected to produce a witness on such short notice, we'll overlook the protocol and Sir Arnwald and Dame Morgana will serve as our witnesses for the occasion."
The old bastard eyed me for a while (or at least I was pretty sure he was doing that behind his helmet's face plate), and while he let his borrowed sword down, his grip didn't loosen on it at all.
"Are you serious?"
"Quite," I responded curtly. In return, Percival let out a low chuckle.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not bound by the rules of the Brotherhood anymore."
He spoke slowly, probably so that he could draw out the conversation and regain some of his stamina. I wouldn't have that.
"No, you're not," I told him tersely and pointed Cal at him again. "You have already had your Oaths replaced so that you can ignore the rules of the Brotherhood, as well as the authority of the King of Knights, but think about it for a moment: who were the ones who replaced them?"
He remained silent, probably expecting that I was either trying to get him to further incriminate himself, or that it was some sort of a trick question.
"It was the Celestials. However, while the Oaths in your Astral Body might be different, they are still based on the same Oaths as the other Knights of the Brotherhood, now Ordo Draconis." This was, naturally, something I'd learned when I examined his receptacles in the past, but I wasn't obligated to explain the nitty-gritty details. "Have you ever wondered whose authority replaced mine?"
"The Celestials'."
His annoyed response drew a chuckle out of me and I casually waved Teeny in the vague direction of the Colossi.
"And who's the highest military authority amongst the Celestials right now?"
Percival glanced at the statue creatures, and the moment the recognition hit him, he let out a low hiss and clutched his chest with his free hand. I also felt the Arbitration's constricting sensation settle in mine, though it was much less uncomfortable than when Penny challenged me in the past. It might've been because our Oaths weren't fully compatible, or because I was feeling a bit smug at the moment.
"Well played," Percival hissed, and he was damn right.
There was a reason why I made a big show about turning off the Colossi. It, and the Arbitration, was a vague idea I had in my head since the very beginning, but I couldn't act on it because I was here as Bel instead of myself. The trick was to make Percival acknowledge that I had the authority to challenge him, which activated his Oaths. It was the same kind of finagling I'd been doing for a while now, to circumvent plot devices, and…
…
Hold on. Something just occurred to me.
I merged with other-me, and I realized that I was a facet of a greater whole we called the Narrative. Plot devices were things set up by the Narrative for later use, so other-me screaming at me whenever I was about to touch them was comparable to building a house of cards, and repeatedly telling myself, 'Be careful, don't knock it over!'. Doing so would've also alerted the Emergents to my presence… or would it? They seemed to be entirely uninterested in whatever I did, even if it was via manipulating the Simulacrum through my phantom limbs, so long as what I did didn't contradict the hard rules. No time travel, no direct mucking with souls, and so on.
However, even if they did care about my directly interfacing with these plot devices, they were now aware of my existence. Or, at the very least, they should've been. Unless the Predator Moon acted on its own, and the red sun, the Crowned Coalescence, did something to him to make the others unaware of what happened. I sincerely doubted that, considering that flinging the bone-man out of the Simulacrum didn't feel like an especially covert operation, so they most likely already knew something was up.
In other words, at the moment there was nothing physically stopping me from interacting with Percival's armour or Oaths, and doing so wouldn't have made the situation with the Emergents any worse either, so… why did I go through this whole song-and-dance-routine again to establish the Arbitration duel?
"Right. Drama. Silly me," I whispered under my breath, and tried as I might, I couldn't keep the trepidation out of my voice.
As much as I hated this whole thing, I didn't have an alternative. The situation had to be resolved in a way that resolved the dramatic tension in the air. If I were to do it anti-climactically by, say, locking up Percival's armour and then having Sebastian beat him to a pulp… while I would've found it satisfying enough, it wouldn't have fulfilled the Simulacrum's 'drama quota', and that would've made the Emergents start looking into things and mucking up the plot, which I needed about as much as a hump on my back right now.
In other words, I would have to beat Sir Percival the old-fashioned way, and then I could disable him in any way I wanted to. And maybe throw him into that volcano. Plans for later.
For the time being, I flourished my swords again, and told him, "Once you're defeated, you'll face the tribunal of the Ordo Draconis for your crimes."
"Ha!" Percival let out a guffaw and hefted his sword. "Putting the cart before the horse, aren't you, kid? All right. In that case, if I emerge victorious, you'll have to let me go."
That was one of those conditions that would've only worked on a Lawful Stupid paladin type, but I didn't want to ruin the flow, so I just shrugged at his suggestion. That was apparently all the ritual of the Arbitration needed, and I could feel the constricting sensation in my chest settle into a less distracting, but still present throb.
"Since we couldn't uphold all the rules of the Arbitration, I'll let you have the first strike." Shifting my posture, I gestured at him with my head. "Your turn."
The old bastard didn't move right away. His head moved almost imperceptibly, likely glancing around. He must've realized that, even if he could potentially beat me, he wouldn't have anywhere to run afterwards. His Celestial allies were not only too busy with their own problems right now, but as I'd just proven, my position as their Archon made them unreliable even at the best of times, and he was surrounded on all sides by my family and allies.
Yet, he still raised his sword, both hands on the hilt, and adopted an offensive stance, with the blade held high and the point aimed right at me. As they say, a cornered mouse will bite the cat. Though, in this case, calling him a mouse was a bit of an understatement. Maybe a rat? Or a snake. That sounded much more accurate.
Before I could get bogged down in the animal analogies, Percival lunged at me, alerting my danger-sense. I tried to reflexively parry his thrust, but while I managed to do it, the shock felt like I just hit a stone wall with a pipe and made my hand numb. And that was with my physical enhancements already cranked up to be just under the red-line, and with both Cal and Teeny supplying me with mana.
"Look out, My Liege! He's formidable!" Arnwald chimed in from the sideline, and the only reason why I didn't yell 'Thanks, Captain Obvious!' was because I was too busy defending myself from Percival's assault.
He was wicked fast, borderline Penny-fast, and his strikes carried about as much force as a haymaker from Duncan, which was really, really… not that bad news, actually.
Deftly avoiding a series of quick cuts aimed at my upper body, I made occasional counter-plays to keep him on his toes while I was getting accustomed to his range. Honestly, this wasn't so bad. Sure, he was actually dangerous, and if I messed up, I could've been seriously injured at any moment, or worse, but as far as my goal was concerned, this worked out pretty well.
After all, I needed to have a proper fight with him. If he was much weaker, then it would've been completely unexciting, and I would've had to come up with some handicap for myself to make the fight more dramatic, and that was just a pain in the neck. Ironically, being an actual threat to me made things much easier on the 'narrative building' front.
We exchanged blows a few more times, mostly just to test each other's limits, and I had to admit, in terms of physical enhancements, he beat my Leoformer's Lion Knight armour by quite some margin. It was to be expected though. On the other hand…
"Do you think you have the leisure to space out like that!" he yelled out to me and rushed forth with a series of wide slashes aimed at my head and torso.
"I have a lot on my mind," I answered calmly and deflected his strikes before extending Teeny in the way of his advance, forcing him to leap back, lest he would impale himself with his momentum alone.
So, while he was definitely stronger than me in a purely statistical manner, his weapons handling and judgement left much to be desired. It made me wonder why. Wasn't he supposed to be the big final boss archetype? He even got the OP armour to stand toe-to-toe with everyone… but on the other hand, he was using a borrowed weapon, and him not being a great combatant was consistent with his previous role as a midden manipulator. It made sense both ways.
Anyhow, while pondering over these things, I went on the offensive and rained a series of quick strikes aimed at his sword, just to keep him busy. It was pretty meaningless as far as actually subduing him was concerned, but our blades meeting and striking off magic-infused sparks was suitably dynamic to keep the onlookers on the edge of their seats, so it was good enough.
… Actually, let's backtrack a bit. Magical sparks. They were apparently visible to everyone, but it reminded me of the thing that wasn't; the colourless, hard-to-define glow of power leaking out of and enveloping anything and everything that had to do with magic. Could I see it because I was Narrative-adjacent? No, that didn't feel correct. Then what about my other abilities?
After pondering for a moment, while our duel moved to a different part of the Orange Zone, I quickly reached a few simple conclusions. First off, the phantom limbs, and anything related to them, seemed to be outside of the scope of the Narrative. Maybe that's why other-me always threw a hissy-fit when I used them to affect the plot. As for the rest… Hm… Those were apparently abilities I was meant to have, but not in the way I did.
As in, I would've had a different set of powers depending on the 'route' (except there weren't pre-destined routes, but more like the Simulacrum ad-hoc adapting to developments, with my greater Narrative-self further steering things from the shadows), but I somehow ended up unlocking them all. Except… that still wasn't the whole picture.
"Too slow!" Percival yelled at me, and he wasn't entirely wrong, as I barely managed to get out of the way of a thrust aimed at my mid-section, his blade coming so close to my side that it momentarily triggered the wards.
Dammit, I should focus on what I was doing, but it was so hard when my head was full of all of these questions and answers and I had to pair them up. It was like an intellectual itch that I couldn't help but scratch, even in the middle of a duel.
For example, Far Sight apparently wasn't supposed to work the way it did for me. It wasn't related to my phantom limbs, and that's why I needed to make physical contact, but in its original form, it wasn't supposed to let me spy on anyone I ever touched. It had much more stringent limitations, but because I was diffused in the Simulacrum—
"Wait, what?"
The words escaping my mouth startled Percival, to the point he redirected his last strike and adopted a defensive posture. However, when I didn't follow it up, he shifted his stance again, getting ready to deliver a vertical overhead strike, so I hastily crossed my sword and… Wait. Oh no.
Before I could reconsider, his slash fell on me and got caught between my raised swords. However, instead of pulling back, he doubled down, and we got caught in a classic blade lock scenario, both of us pushing against the clinch while rooted in place, and, and…
Goddamit! That's one of the dumbest clichés there is! Sure, it was a classic trope, and it's very dramatic, so I should've been happy about it, but dammit, I have standards, and this fell well below them!
But then again, since we were caught in the stalemate for a moment, maybe I should just go with it? I mean, it was pretty much a free license for me to ponder over more important things. Really, it wasn't that bad, right?
…
No. I changed my mind. This is stupid. It sucks. He's not even pushing against me anymore, just keeping our blades together, and…
"You know, Leonard," Percival suddenly addressed me, and… Oh for the love of god, don't open your face-plate, you melon! I don't need to see your face, and contrary to common belief, talking is only a free action in tabletop RPGs, not to mention… "We're even more alike than you realize, you and I."
"… You've got to be shitting me."
"No, I'm actually quite serious," Percival continued in a grave tone, but I couldn't pay him any attention, because I was feeling like I was about to get an aneurysm.
He was seriously, one hundred percent genuinely giving me the 'we're not so different' villain speech! When Fred tried the same thing ages ago, I could let it slide, because he was playing the role of a silly sentai bad guy. This bastard was doing it sincerely.
"… the promise of power is hard to ignore, and it's easy to lose yourself in the…"
No. Shut up. I'm not listening to this. Where was I before this whole stupid situation arose again? Right, I was thinking about what it meant to be 'diffused' in the Simulacrum, didn't I?
"… torn between your allegiances, but one day, you'll have to make a choice, and…"
So, how did that work? It kind of made intuitive sense, in a way; the Narrative was, or at least used to be, operating across the entirety of the Simulacrum. Or at the very least this island, but let's not get bogged down in the logistics for now. Since I had always been part of the Narrative, and I kept taking out bigger and bigger chunks of it until we reached the present time, so it made sense that I would be diffused as well… but I wasn't. Not really.
"… gamble upon gamble, hoping to win big and change your life, only to realize you're too deep in and…"
I mean, yes, technically Far Sight allowed me to send my consciousness to other places, and the reason why I could do it without using any mana was that it didn't involve the magical stratum of the Simulacrum and it was more of an innate quality of mine, but… something was missing. I couldn't put my finger on exactly what, but my gut told me I wasn't seeing the whole picture. Not yet.
"… have nothing to say? Cat's got your tongue, boy? Or are you lacking the words to refute me?"
Was this something even other-me didn't know about, or did I already know the answer, but it was buried under so many other factiods I just couldn't connect the dots yet? What was the exact relationship between myself, the Narrative, and the Simulacrum as a whole, and how did it relate to…?
Hm? Oh, Percival stopped talking. Okay, let's put that thought on hold and continue the duel.
"Sorry, could you repeat that?" I said in a casual tone and pushed him back a bit. "I wasn't paying full attention."
I received the mother of all flat stares in return, which was already disconcerting enough, but then it got even worse when Percival's lips slowly bent into a defiant smirk.
"So confident. So arrogant. You must think you've got me cornered, and you can take it easy now." His expression withered in the blink of an eye, followed by a venomous hiss. "I'm disappointed in you, kid ."
Before I could react properly, his armour let out a high-pitched whine, like one of those big, bulky flash lights on old cameras, and he shoved me so hard I staggered back a bit. For a split-second, I was wide open, yet I got no warning from my danger sense, because he took a few steps back and threw his weapon to the side. That was already confusing enough, but then the magical light surrounding his body intensified by at least an order of magnitude, and he adopted a strange pose. One palm was pointing at me, with fingers spread, while the other was doing the same, but pointing at the side.
"Getting stronger made you complacent, just as I knew it would happen! It always does! All that authority and power went into your head, and you forgot what I thaught you years ago!" As he spoke, his feet left the ground and he slowly levitated a few centimeters up into the air, now surrounded by a visible red light that gave his black armour an even more sinister aura. "When it comes to survival, there are no rules!"
"Leonard, look out!" Morgana dashed in to pick up her sword, and she hastily positioned herself between the two of us. "I should've known! Percival still has his Mantle!"
Translation: despite being officially retired, he apparently still has his unique ability, like Morgana's thick to momentarily freeze people after making eye-contact, or Penny's magic resistance.
"What does it do again?" I asked in a low voice, but Morgana still managed to overhear me, and she readily answered.
"He has the power to transfer the effects of all injuries and ailments he suffers from to a designated target!"
I would've thanked her for the succinct explanation of what the heck the old bastard was doing, but then Arnwald also rushed in to stand between him and Morgana.
"Brother Percival! Are you out of your mind!? Even if you unleash that power upon Leonard, you will not escape unscathed!"
Oh. So it's also a self-sacrificial move. Neat. Just what we needed right now.
… For the record, that was sarcasm.
"Don't be daft, old friend!" the floating old man chuckled, and even though I no longer actively felt the irrational annoyance in his presence, his expression made me want to punch him all the same. "Think for a moment! Who do you think I'm threatening right now?" Hearing that, my head snapped in the direction his other palm was pointing, and I found Snowy at the end of it. "Ah. The kid finally got it!"
She looked startled by how everyone was focused on her and got ready to cast a spell. Probably a defensive one, I hoped. She wasn't alone either, as if looks could kill, my in-laws would've already turned Percival into mincemeat, and even Sebastian looked like he was about to finally unleash the full brunt of his dragon fire. However, I gestured for them to calm down and pushed the two senior Knights out of the way, approaching Percival.
"Okay, I bite. What's your plan?"
He let out a throaty chuckle and spread his arms again.
"Have any of you wondered why the vial of Udug Blood Amalgam I threw at Bel of the Abyss was empty?" That was a bit of a curveball, but before anyone could get a word in, he declared, "I drank it!"
"What did you say?" That came from Mom-in-law, and she hurriedly dashed over to Snowy, trying to guard her with her own body.
"Oh, please! She was marked the moment I pulled the trigger on my Mantle. Trying to shield her is meaningless," Percival scoffed, the red light surrounding him getting even more ominous, and he levelled a cold glare at me. "Now, tell me, kid? Do you see the three choices in front of you?"
"Three," I repeated after him, and the way he grinned at me in return had a spark of desperate madness in it.
"Indeed. You must be aware, but I'm already running out of mana. I have nothing to lose, so I'll leave the choice in your hands. If you don't stop me, I will transfer the poison to her, and you'll have to watch her die in agony. Cut me down instead, and with my dying breath, I'll mirror it back to you and take you with me. Or… you can forfeit this Arbitration, and then you'll have to let me leave, or pay with your Oaths."
"Percivaaal!" Arnwald shouted in pure outrage and aimed an arrow at the old man's face, but he only chuckled with a wide grin directed at me.
"You must've thought you were oh-so-clever by trapping me in the rules of the Arbitration, but you never considered how they could be used against you just as well. You're still too young and impulsive."
We locked eyes for a couple of crucial seconds, and I tried my best to read his expression. Was he really this desperate, or was this just a ploy? I decided to press him a bit, and see.
"… You're bluffing."
My flat response made the old man's eyes shake, but he quickly doubled down.
"Do you think I wouldn't drink the Blood Amalgam?"
"No, I'm not questioning that part."
If anything, that was the bit that made the most sense. The Blood Amalgam was a… well, maybe not a 'classic' MacGuffin, but a plot device in its more essential form. Closer to a Chekhov's Gun, really; just like the rifle on the wall established ahead of time, it had to be used at a later point, and since Percival was about to be sacked, there was no point later than this for him.
Of course, I didn't expect it to be involved in some status ailment transferring Knightly special ability bullshit, but to be fair, this evening was one outrageous unexpected development after the other, to the point this didn't even make it to the top ten.
So, I was just about to explain why I thought he was too much of a selfish cockroach to risk his life on a gamble like this, but I was beaten to the punch by Snowy.
"Sir… No, Uncle Percival." She stepped forward, out of the ring that Mom-in-law and the rest formed around her while we talked, and she came up to us, stopping withing my arm's reach. "Leo is right, isn't he? Even if you had the means, you wouldn't do it, right?"
"Don't test me, Abyssal!" he hissed, but the way his eyes kept darting between me and my sister told me he was knocked off-balance by her approach. "This is between me and Leonard."
"No, not anymore," Snowy said as she shook her head. "You involved me in this, and… I think I know why. I haven't known you for long, but… we are similar, aren't we?"
"Oh, for the love of god, sis…" I whispered under my breath, and the only reason I wasn't facepalming already was because my hands were occupied by my swords.
Meanwhile, Snowy continued to emphatically plead with the old man.
"You're just like how I was before I met Leo. You feel that you're set on a path you can't escape, that you have no choice in what you do, but I know that deep down, you aren't a bad person."
This time, I straight up had to send a flat stare at my sister. What the heck was she even talking about? No matter how I looked at it, Percival was a pretty terrible human being, and… Oh, wait. Is this…? Is she doing the 'Talking the Monster to Death' trope?
Actually, that made a lot of sense. She was the one who interacted with Percival the most over the past month or so, and they had built at least some kind of rapport. Maybe a bit of Stockholm Syndrome, even? Add in the whole 'Abyssal Seducer' connection thing she could be tugging at even at this very moment, and she actually stood at a good chance to do it. The real question was whether he even deserved that chance.
Which brought up a different question: what was I planning to do about the old bastard? I wasn't planning to kill him; while the fact that I was the Narrative, in a sense, allayed a lot of my worries about a tonal shift happening, the prospect of taking a life, even his life, filled me revulsion even though I still really, really hated his guts, and his threatening of Snowy didn't exactly endear him to me either. It was a complicated feeling. At the end of it, I decided to leave it to my sister and see where the situation would lead us… though not before surrounding her with my phantom limbs to intercept any magical curse whatchamacallits. Just to be safe.
In any case, even while I was pondering, Snowy kept arguing with Percival.
"… Please. You know that all of this is meaningless. Don't make your situation even worse."
"So what? Do you expect me to just surrender?"
"Yes. You don't need to fight anymore, so please, stop."
"If you want to stop this, I'm not the one you need to convince."
Snowy shook her head, and wordlessly extended a hand towards him. She glanced at me, her eyes asking for support, so I let out a shallow breath and stepped up to her. It was time to flex my good ol' acting skills a bit.
"Sir Percival. Do you know why I challenged you to Arbitration?" He was puzzled for a moment, so before he could literally question it, I barrelled on and said whatever came to mind. "It was to give you the opportunity to fight me as a Knight, as an equal, one last time. To see the error of your ways. It was the last grace I could offer you, as my old mentor. Listen to Snowy. Don't throw it away, along with whatever remains of your honour."
There. That sounded like decently King of Knight-ish, if I do say so myself.
Unfortunately, my words had little visible effect, as Percival only glared at me while the red light around him went a step further and began swirling in erratic patterns, making him look even more sinister than before. I personally would've considered that to be the point where the negotiations broke down, yet Snowy remained steadfast.
"Uncle Percival. Please. Don't make Penny cry."
This was the pivotal moment, and I could see the red aura around Percival waver and undulate until it began to slowly fade away.
"You're right, girlie. I knew that resistance was futile since the moment Leonard showed up in person. So…" He turned back to me, and when our eyes met, I involuntarily froze up. "As your 'old mentor', let me teach you one last lesson! For old times' sake! I call it 'This is what happens when you're being too soft'!" At the same time, the red light enveloping him surged, and I reflexively stepped between Snowy and the desperate old Knight. "Consider this my parting gift, Leonard!"
At this point, things happened way too fast to properly think anything through, so I acted entirely out of instinct. The crimson aura surrounding him condensed into an indistinct red blob, like a small cloud, and it was already moving from his body and towards my sister. There was no place for hesitation, so I pulled back my swords, already covered in phantom limbs and swung them at the approaching thing with all my might while simultaneously shredding every single enchantment in his armour by lashing him with my remaining invisible tendrils.
When I made contact, the red cloud crumbled, but that wasn't the end of it. Still connected to Percival, the remaining fragments flowed back into him, but since the enchantments were busted, the power had nowhere to go. It started with a low, humming sound getting more and more discordant as the light around his body grew in intensity once again, and when the noise reached its crescendo, it was followed by an explosion, flinging Percival's body to the ground with a sickening crunch.
For a few seconds, I remained in the same position, with my swords raised high after I swung them, and I stared at the convulsing body on the floor. Arnwald reacted the fastest out of everyone present. He dashed over and grabbed Percival's shoulders. The old man's eyes were rolled back into his head, and his mouth was locked in a silent scream as both visible and invisible magical powers swirled around him.
"Oh, no…!" Snowy exclaimed, jolting me out of my surprise, and I dashed over to his side.
"Something's wrong with him," Arnwald informed me as if I couldn't tell it at a glance myself. "His armor must've been damaged and caused a mana feedback cascade!"
Staring at the still convulsing old man, for a moment I was tempted to turn a blind eye. If I didn't intervene, there was a good chance he would die. It was even a suitably dramatic circumstance, done in by his own power and whatnot, and he entirely deserved it for trying to hurt my sister with his last act of defiance, but… Yeah. Just as I thought; it just really didn't sit well with me.
I sheathed my blades, kneeled next to him, and placed a hand on his chest plate.
"Hold him still."
Arnwald nodded and grabbed hold of his shoulders while I stabbed the unconscious old man with my phantom limbs. At first, I tried to dissipate the mana rampaging in his body, but it was easier said than done. Before long, I came to a simple conclusion; I had to let the excess mana out, before it completely destroyed him from the inside, and I had only one way to do that. Well, two, but I really wasn't invested enough in him to warrant a retcon.
With minimal effort, I dived deeper into his existence. Not deep enough to get to his soul, but enough to interact with his astral body; the intermediary upon which his Oaths were carved. Normally, this would've been the moment other-me would've tried to discourage me, but not this time. Instead, I wrapped my phantom limbs around said Oaths, and plucked them out of his astral body one by one. It wasn't exactly a gentle procedure, but again, while I was willing to save his life for my own peace of mind, that was as far as my generosity went.
With the Oaths now 'unplugged', the excess mana, intertwined with the rebound of his ability, escaped his body in the form of a red mist. I couldn't be sure that didn't have trace elements of the Blood Amalgam, so the moment, I was sure she was no longer convulsing, I jumped to my feet and pulled Snowy away from the area.
"Is… is he dead?"
"Hopefully not." Seeing that my sister was still staring at him with a glum expression, I gently patted her back. "You tried your best. He made his choices, and they led him here."
"I know, but… Penny will be sad."
"Probably."
I continued to reassure her for about half a minute, but there were still things to be done, so I handed the baton over to my in-laws.
After taking a few deep breaths, I returned to Percival's side, where the senior Knights were busy taking care of his body by doing the standard first-aid practice of turning him to his side and ensuring he could breathe. However, before I could address them, I was flagged down by Sebastian.
"You should've let him die," the incognito dragon told me flatly, and after some thinking, I shrugged.
"Maybe."
"Being too soft isn't always a virtue, my boy."
"Maybe, but I like the soft me," I answered, and even allowed myself a chuckle. "I couldn't just let him become our Knight of Cerebus after all."
"Pardon?"
"It's complicated."
He watched me through squinted eyes, and after a long beat, he gestured at Naoren and Rinne. Or rather, the colossi the enthusiastic huntress was trying to dismantle, just to be safe, while the Feilong patriarch was trying to hold her back.
"What should we do about those things?"
"Leave them alone. Once this whole hubbub blows over, I'll have the Celestials clean them up."
"It's dangerous to let them lie around like that," he insisted with a clear sense of animosity towards the statue creatures. "We should destroy them."
"You had the chance. Why didn't you use your dragon fire?" I pointed it out, and the old steward exhaled an annoyed huff.
"My boy. You shouldn't ask meaningless questions like that."
While saying that, he subtly pointed at Lord Barnabas, and I had to grudgingly nod along. Right. Revealing his true identity in front of an arch-mage of the assembly probably wasn't a good idea.
But speaking of him, since the battle was over, the dark-skinned man was in the process of casting spells in the back, manipulating and restoring the broken walls of the ruined warehouse. He probably had his reasons to do so, but it felt a bit frivolous. I didn't have the time to call him out on that though. While this battle might've been finished, the night was far from over.
"I have to go now," I stated in a loud voice so everyone could hear it, and Morgana immediately moved over to my side, waiting for orders. "Look after my sister, pile up the Colossi in one place, and wait for the cleanup crew."
"As you command."
She saluted to me and headed to the side of Mountain Girl, who was still arguing with Naoren about how beheading the Colossi 'just a little bit' should've been fine, and she was replaced by Lord Barnabas, coming over after hearing what I said.
"Please stay still for a second, and I'll let you out."
Normally I would've told him that I'd let myself out, but I was interrupted by Judy connecting to me, so I raised two fingers to my helmet.
"{Chief. The situation on Elly's side is fully under control. What's the situation at Site C, over?}"
"We wrapped things up over here as well."
"{Casualties?}"
"Agrawain broke an arm, but otherwise everyone's fine."
"{Sir Percival?}"
"Barely alive at the moment."
"{At the moment, you say?}"
"He targeted Snowy."
"{Oh… Are you okay?}"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
There was a short pause, and she clarified, "{Last time he did that, and you beat him up, you were out of it for a while.}"
"There are more important things to worry about right now." I was still waiting for the arch-mage to eject me from the Orange Zone while watching the others move the stiff Percival and the sprawled-out Colossi, and so I asked whatever came to mind, just to keep the conversation moving. "How did Elly take the news of what happened?"
"{If you mean the retcon, she asked if you can use it to manipulate stock prices, over.}"
Ah. Leave it to my draconic girlfriend to immediately reach for the most 'practical' application.
"Tell her that we'll discuss it after everything's wrapped up."
"{Roger.}" The moment she said that, my environment blurred, and I found myself out of the ruined Orange Zone and in the slightly less ruined factory. The moment I showed up, the Celestial portal technician let out a startled eep, still sitting right where I left him as Bel, but I ignored him and walked out of his sight while listening to Judy. "{Are you going to head to Elysium next?}"
"That's the plan. You won't be able to reach me there, so focus on coordinating the others."
"{On it. Also, Chief?}" The paused meaningfully, then concluded with, "{I don't know what exactly happened with Sir Percival, but don't stress too much over it. He had it coming.}"
"He did," I answered with a mirthless smile, and mentally prepared myself to deal with the arguably the most aggravating part of this whole climax fiasco. "Tell Angie I'll pick her up soon. I'll probably need her help with this one."
Comments
Divyne C Harris
Oh yes. This is it. It feels so natural. Whatever leo being the narrative means I think even if it would be deserved to suddenly allow someone to die would go against Leo’s core values and mean that he has changed. He wouldn’t be Doormouses Leo anymore because he would be thinking he got to decide who lived and died and there was no real consequences. And I think that could lead to him not treating the others like real people and not just characters in his head he can rid of when he likes. Which in turn affects stories like the the class pres and etc.
thaughton2
I like the way this turned out. Percival gets talked down to some extent, but not in an unrealistic way. In the end he doesn't have it in him to change, at least not while he's plot relevant/for a long time. So he lashes out one last time and gets slapped down for it. Plus losing his Oaths entirely.
