Johoon Silverleg received the report that his [Mercenaries] were dismissed by the Countess. Though he saw the gold and silver before him, this is not what he wanted.
“You scum-addled sailors. Did every one of you leave the castle?”
“Y-yes.”
“With me. We will show that bitch that this port is ours. Tell all the boys that.”
“Aye–”
Something sundered the ship into pieces, deck and all. A second later, the waters flooded what remained of the deck, and the [Captain] blocked a glaive with a golden blade. He did not have the luxury to stare at the impaled and sunken pieces of his men.
“Piss.” Johoon cursed. “ [I Moved Like Mist].”
Johoon disengaged, his body turning into mist in a moment. The second he materialized, he was thrown into the waters by the same glaive that swung with the force of a collapsing pillar. His back hit the trash-littered seabed below, and found himself lying with a skeleton consumed by seaweed and barnacles. He swam up and kicked the water with his magical silver leg. The force of his ascent burst forth a column of water that rained on the slums of Est Proves and was enough of a distraction for Johoon to kick the strange thing that attacked him into the wall that separated the slums from the rest of the port. A bell rang a hurried cadence, amplified by magic, and the citizens knew that it was the alarm for a monster incursion or [Pirate] raid. Yet he knew that this was not a random incursion but an ambush from a summoned being.
The red being stood without a scratch on its lacquered skin. Its fifty-four limbs reminded him of a horror of horrors that hid within the wandering ice mountains of the Obscure Ocean. Johoon did not feel the instinctive disgust that the beings born from the end of the world emanated but a sense of primeval power that he could not begin to comprehend.
The demon’s halo flared, and Johoon began to summon the Smoke Elemental from his magical smoking pipe. When the demon appeared where he stood earlier, the Smoke Elemental tried to find a way into the creature’s orifices, only to find out that it had none. Five of its fifty-four limbs ripped the threads of magic that bound the Smoke Elemental together, dispelling it and rendering Johoon’s magic item ineffective. Johoon spat his smoking pipe to the ground and pulled out a speaking stone that is attuned to a few of his crew.
“To whoever is still alive, storm the castle. Kill all who resist. Find out who summoned something to kill me.”
The speaking stone shattered into pieces as Johoon dodged the glaive’s swing, but he was scorched by flourishes of iridescent flame that formed from twenty of its limbs.
“[Magic Item: Boosted Potency]. [Fluid As Quicksilver]. [Magic Item: Triplicate Haste]. [Anchoring Storm of Stabs]. [Dagger Art: Flesh-Tearing Typhoon]--
His silver leg seemed to glow with power as he lunged forward towards the demon, and his heavy body seemed to soften into a fluid state and accelerate thrice his speed. His dagger finally bit into the many limbs of the creature, and with each wound he managed to gouge out, his enemy grew heavier. Then he became a typhoon of blades that slashed and stabbed, tearing flesh–until a line of blood drew itself across Johoon’s torso, followed up by five punches in that moment that threw him through several shanties and apartments.
“Imitations of the machine. Mere copies. Nothing like the gods.” The demon stared at his dismembered, bloodless limbs, disparaging the assault he had suffered. For seconds, he waited to heal and realized the limitations of his flawed summoning as he realized that his wounds remained. Soon, it would return to its Realm of origin and be summoned by another who knew its names and the manner in which to perform the contract.
Before it could conjure a spear that could damn someone to the hell it came from, a silver foot kicked it to the side from an angle it hadn’t expected. The creature crashed into several buildings outside the slums and crushed several families in its path. Johoon saw his silver prosthetic starting to devour what remained of his right leg, and it knew Johoon was almost out of mana.
“[Item Replenish Char–”
A golden blade cut between Johoon’s right knee and his parasitic magic item. The demon stood in front of him, holding its golden glaive above its head, about to deal the finishing blow. Yet its many eyes turned to the clear skies and stared beyond the floating islands as if it noticed something. Clouds out of thin air gathered in a hurry until they turned grey, and from its crux emerged a white finger that split into two. Lightning thundered down from the heavens and transmuted the demon into a sculpture of pyrite and silver. The temple that overlooked Ovespuerte too, was also struck with the same lightning, which transformed portions of it into chunks of molten metal.
Johoon couldn’t believe his eyes. It was not a spell of any tier. It did not have the sensation of a great spell being cast. He could still feel the wrathful intent of such an attack, and he was reminded of the tales of the [Sea Priests] about the capricious rage of the gods of the waters they sail and the winds their ships borrowed. He tried to stand, despite the absence of a leg, despite the gaping wound across his chest, defiant against his broken body. Johoon found himself kneeling on the street instead of standing up.
A quarrel pierced his heart, and he felt the gnawing of poison making his way through his veins. Three more pierced his chest, then five, then ten, and more. The repeating volley, Johoon knew, that his opponents now were [Assassins] that know how to kill people as powerful as him. When he tried to stand, his arms were impaled with multiple bolts, making him fall face-first to the ground. Then three [Fireballs] from three separate directions brought his end, and he felt every patch of cloth and skin burning for many painful seconds, for he is difficult to kill. When all that was left of him was smoldering flesh, the [Assassins] wearing a variety of civilian clothing emerged from the ruined buildings and their shadows. Then they stabbed his corpse repeatedly.
“Check for magic items.” One of them said. Some of them diligently turned the body on its side while blades were still pointed at the corpse in case their target somehow survived. There were no other magical tools aside from Johoon’s silver leg and defective smoking pipe. Deemed thoroughly dead, the [Assassins] threw his burnt corpse into the sea, and their leader claimed the silver leg for himself.
“Tell our client, discreetly, that the job is done.”
-
When Racieros and Cultrost heard the shockwave and the massive geyser from the docks, Racieros urged his mother to sound the alarm, and Strraina turned to their court mage to sound the bell. She issued a proclamation to the Adventurer’s Guild that their adventurers would be given a reward for assisting against the [Pirate] incursion, despite the debt the household had piled up.
What remains of the Household Guard, including the recruits that Graten trained and the [Knights] that accompany Adriasta Kaminor who also volunteered, mustered in front of the castle gates behind barricades and atop the walls, armed with the last remaining arquebuses from the trade between the states of El-Mira and other weapons left in the armory. Adriasta and her [Knights] elected to protect the castle and Strraina herself in case the walls were breached, arguing that when those in the walls retreated back to the castle, she and [Knights] could effectively defend against the attackers. After a brief argument, they all accepted the [Lady]’s proposal.
Graten, Racieros, and Cultrost later stood behind the battlements on the walls and watched helplessly as [Marines] armed with blades, wands, and pistols strode boisteriously in the streets towards the castle. Most of the people already barricaded their homes, and those unfortunate enough to cross their path were cruelly cut down or briefly beaten to death.
“Open the gates–”
“I would advise against that, sir.” Graten cut off Racieros. “They are trying to bait us out of our position. No matter how many innocents they maim or kill, we must not give up our advantage.”
“That’s–”
“We outnumber them. I counted twenty-five. Twenty for us. And your mother called for adventurers. If your city’s guilds join the fight, or if your city has a militia, then they will be eliminated.”
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“Graten’s right,” Cultrost said, even if he wanted to go out there and bring the fight to them. “We’ll stay here and shoot them from here.”
Racieros still isn’t convinced because he knew that numbers isn’t everything in this world. A single man dared to threaten him and his mother in this very castle, after all.
“Your mother’s right. You should go back to the castle.” Cultrost turned to Racieros.
“I already said no.” Racieros rebuked. “I already said that I need to be here to inspire you all, and it is my duty as a [Lord]. No one will respect a [Lord] that cowers behind a castle.”
“Fuck all of that!” Cultrost said. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you.”
“If you’re that worried about me, then, I’ll keep myself safe. I know when to retreat, and I know I’ll always be in the rear.”
Racieros took a long look at Cultrost before facing the chaos outside, sighing deeply.
Johoon’s men seemed to realize that their terror tactic didn’t work, and they are wary of any reinforcements that could encircle them. So their leader, one of them that somehow survived and without any knowledge that their [Captain] is dead, hollered at his fellow [Marines] to charge at the castle and defeat the [Summoner] that their superior is having trouble in at that moment.
A volley of [Firebolts] and lead balls roared from the walls. They scorched gambesons and pierced flesh, yet they still persistently charged. Some shot with their One raised a wand and produced a ramp of light, and several of them activated their Feats to run faster. Two fell when three defenders on the wall shot at them, but it is too late as they were already on the walls of the castle.
“[Clear Command]. Form up and surround them.”
They raised their shields and tried to jab at them with their spears, but the [Marines] were used to tight spaces in naval combat. The [Marines] fired their pistols and activated the spells in their wands to gain a bit of space, redirecting the jabs of spears and dodging quarrels from the defenders’ crossbows. Some of them try to run up against the walls before being promptly shot down by arquebuses.
Cultrost recklessly ran sideways on the battlements, bypassing the line of defenses to clobber one of them with a mace. Such ferocity was one they didn’t expect from the defenders, and so their attention turned to the lone Satyr in their midst. Graten didn’t manage to stop this foolish maneuver, and he prepared himself for whatever would happen, for he could only give out support-Feats to bolster the defense right now.
Barely a second passed, and Cultrost suffered many cuts, yet [Ignore Pain] lets him keep fighting despite that. Though without the plate armor characteristic of [Knights] in stories, he had the Role.
“[Knight’s Challenge]!” Cultrost roared like he never roared before.
Cultrost used the only new Feat that comes with his [Knight] Role, exacerbating the attention given to him. Their eyes turned to him and him alone, accepting the challenge. The [Marines] found him as slow as an amateur fighter, but with the tenacity of someone who would be at the level of their boss. They dodged each swing of his mace, taking every opening to inflict a cut not blocked by the Satyr’s [Phantom Bracer]. One fired his last remaining round from his pistol and pierced the Satyr’s arm that held his mace, but he didn’t stop swinging and blocking with [Defensive Fighting].
In the heat and flow of the melee, Cultrost saw one of them, a wrinkled and scarred veteran with a grizzled mane the color of pepper, point at him with an etched cutlass, and for a moment smaller than a fraction of a second he saw the words tracing itself in the air.
–Coordinated Assault].
Before he could realize that his perception and reflexes saw the shine of a Feat being activated, he was cut a dozen times, making his body weigh even more with fatigue and bleeding, yet he remained defiantly standing. Now imbued with supernatural coordination, the [Marines] didn’t slow themselves when they almost bumped into each other and became more confident with swinging their blades against him. No matter the angle and intensity of their attacks, they did not hit each other as they gouged more of the Satyr’s flesh. A dagger bounced off Cultrost’s horn, and a dart of stone from a wand stuck itself in his chest, both somehow avoiding hitting someone in their path.
The distraction gave the defenders an opening to further close in, jabbing their spears behind the enemy, depleting their disposable wands with the activation of projectile spells, and killing them with the lead from their guns. When a few of them were left, the [Marines] knew from experience that they had to leave. They tried to retreat by jumping down from the battlements but found themselves surrounded by teams of adventurers and promptly surrendered before more of them died.
Cultrost stood there, blood deepening the color of his crimson skin. Before he fell, Racieros caught him, staring at the Satyr’s face as his eyes close.
“No, no…”
The [Lord] poured his healing potion on Cultrost’s wounds while Graten called for bandages. He saw the faint smile on Cultrost's face, his fingers caressing Racieros’ cheek before closing his eyes again.
[Feat - Surge of Speed, achieved.]
[Feat - Reinforced Armor, developed.]
[Rare Feat - Lesser Slashing Resistance, achieved.]
When he saw the words tracing themselves under the shade of his eyelids, he knew that his gamble had worked.
Then they heard thunder and saw two forks of lightning that struck the temple and the slums. The hairs on everyone’s skin stood on end as a wave of fear and wrath washed over them, and they wondered why this happened on a clear day. Later did most of Ovespuerte learned that the [High Priest] of Ovespuerte and a mysterious creature with fifty-four limbs had turned into rough-hewn statues of pyrite and silver.
-
Dustitoz Gaviolos did not stay long in the political mire that is Ovespuerte, after being outmaneuvered by both Adriasta Kaminor and the idiocy of Garenno Commerro. When he did his part to his House by claiming a stake in the investment towards the repair and improvement of the port he had hopped aboard on a galley heading towards one of the ports that his former House owns. It took only two days until he arrived at the port of Sezésprocorvinté.
On one of the docks, his grey-haired half-brother and current head of House Gaviolos, Durvalerron Gaviolos waited for him with the composure of a practiced athlete and proven statesman. He is far less slovenly than the former Duc, and even without his brigandine-clad [Halberdiers] flanking him, Dustitoz knew that his half-brother would gut him the second he got off the boat. If his half-brother is here on the farthest major port of the Gaviolos, then he had heard of his mistake in Ovespuerte.
Dustitoz walked off the gangway along with the other passengers, who, as soon as they saw the noble, bowed out of respect and obligation before Durvalerron dismissed them.
“Half-brother. Why, why are you getting us in trouble again? You have only this moment to explain yourself before I tell them to cut you into pieces and feed them to the fishes, or I will gut you myself if your answer displeases me.”
“I–He, Garrenno, was a threat to the Commerros. A threatening fool, who drew his weapon in a temple of law instead of going through the trial. He attempted to murder that boy and his mother so that he could take power, and I saw it as an opportunity to gain their favor by doing that.”
“Regardless, you tarnish our House’s reputation by being here. Men, k–”
Dustitoz pulled out a contract from his bag of holding with a visible grimace on his face, as if he was blocking a swing of a weapon towards him.
“Here! I have struck a deal! With the Commerro widow. That we can gain a significant–5% of their annual income if we finance Ovespuerte’s reconstruction. Though if the rest of the Commerros wage war against the current matriarch and her son, we can make this higher in exchange for our–your military assistance.”
Durvalerron told his men to stand down.
“Of course, if you authorize this deal.”
“I’ll think about it.” Durvalerron refused to give his half-brother the satisfaction of a straight answer. “As soon as I decide which to back in the upcoming succession crisis of House Commerro.”
“I do hope you get back the right sort.” Dustitoz mocked.
“I assure you, I’m not as much as a fool as you.” His half-brother retorted. ”Speaking of foolishness, I know you’ve been spreading distasteful rumors about a Naveirei. What’s your goal this time?”
“It’s not just any Naveirei. He is the son of the Left Hand of Torregorn. The scion of Maryhiana Naveirei.”
“No. I thought they were dead. You told us that they were dead.”
“I thought so too. They faked their deaths to escape…the reason why didn’t matter to me. But I discovered that they were alive when you and the kingdom exiled me. That [Spymaster] finally died by my hand, but he escaped and came here, no doubt urged by his father to come here.”
“So why do you let him live?”
“I tried to kill him, and it was very difficult. Then, I realized that revenge is best served warm.”
“I thought the saying goes, ‘revenge is best served cold?’”
“I let that boy pursue his claim. My informant in the Naveirei House told me that the Ichoricon accepted him. Once he tasted what it means to be nobility, its pleasures and the power that comes with it, then I’ll damn him to the most painful death possible. Therefore, ‘warm’, like a meal freshly cooked.”
“And I thought you said, ‘never play with food. ’” Durvalerron shrugged. “Still, you are exiled, and by law, you should not be here. I only gave you that manor so you would not leave it.”
“And I was a great help to our House in Ovespuerte. I was the first to report about it, remember?”
Durvalerron’s lips remained still.
“Do not worry about me half-brother, I’ll leave this port soon and live somewhere else that is not within the demesne of the current [King].”
“The bishopric?”
“Yes. If you are in need of me, I’ll be in Triecanuti.”
“I don’t need you. House Gaviolos does not need you.”
“Sure, keep saying that until the Synod pesters you for your piety. I’ll keep an ear out for your troubles. And remember, [A Secret Between Us: This Never Happened]–
–Durvalerron found himself in his office three towns away, several hours before he charted a trip to Sezésprocorvinté to see his half-brother. He still remembered what happened several hours later, but he knew he could not speak about it. If the [King] tries to contact him about the appearance of his half-brother from his exile, he can simply deny the fact that he had contacted him. He almost forgot that he has useful Feats, but he still denies that he had been beneficial these past few days.
His [Servant] knocked on his door, and he remembered what he was here for.
“Sezzo. Tell the [Mages] to cancel the teleport spell if they haven’t set it up yet.”
