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The kothis backed away, looking ready to lob magic at Vir.
Vir raised a hand to stop them. “Relax. I come in peace. In fact, I wish to aid you.”
His audience looked unconvinced, but Gatiman regarded Vir with an appraising look.
“You are Vaak, yes? A Warrior Calling with the bleeding heart. You are the source of our problems. If we kill you here…”
“Come now, Gatiman, you can’t possibly be that stupid,” Vir replied calmly. “If you think a dozen Warriors are enough to defeat the one who drove back an Ash Beast horde on his own… Well, I would like nothing more than to be rid of you all myself. Just give me a reason.”
The ballroom went silent. Idle boasts wouldn’t faze these Warriors, but it was precisely because they were Warriors that they understood what a monumental, impossible feat Vaak had pulled off.
“What is it you want?” Gatiman asked in a hushed voice.
“I want Asuman dead. I dislike the way he has run this city.”
“Raja Matiman will never allow a Gargan to rule Samar Patag,” Gatiman said. “Let alone a masked Warrior. Surely, you must know this. If you rise to power…”
“Every kothi in the city will rebel against me,” Vir said. “I know. Even if I somehow held the city, Raja Matiman would bring the Chitran army, and that would be that. No, I have no plan to seek the governor’s seat for myself.”
“You are saying you will support my ascendance to the seat?” Gatiman said in disbelief.
“I shall,” Vir replied.
“And I suppose you wish for better living conditions for the Gargans?”
“A foolish question. You already know the answer.”
“This is an outrage!” someone from the crowd roared. “First the banishment of the Outcast Calling, and now this!? Keep giving them rights, and they’Il soon take over. It’ll be as if we hadn’t won the war!”
“Agreed,” another kothi said. “I’ll not stand for this.”
Gatiman raised a hand. “Do not be so rash. We could gain much by working together. What sort of terms are you thinking about?” he asked Vir.
“Nothing difficult,” Vir replied. “In return, I give you my personal guarantee that I will keep the Gargans in line.”
“Then let us discuss further,” Gatiman said, his eyes dancing with eagerness, undoubtedly calculating how having Vaak on his side would cripple the Gargans’ bargaining power.
“I am confident we can come to some arrangement.”
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Their discussion took the better part of the next hour as they hammered out details of their agreement. The other Warriors were initially highly skeptical, questioning every concession Gatiman made, and fighting back against anything they perceived as a threat.
When they found Vir more than amenable, however, they became less aggressive. Some even warmed up to the idea. Though they tried to hide it, their ulterior motives couldn’t have been clearer.
It didn’t matter. Soon, it would all be over. They’d moved into planning the mission soon after, and while the kothis had wanted to wait, Vir had convinced them that acting fast would assure them the highest chance of victory.
The dozen Warriors selected for this operation had been split into three squads at Vir’s request. Vir would join Gatiman’s squad, while the others would infiltrate the castle at the secret locations Vir had indicated.
“You are sure they will be open, yes?” Gatiman asked. While the kothi had been aware of the keep’s many secret passages, he’d been surprised that Vir had known of them.
Not only did Vir know of them, he had people on the inside who’d open the one-way doors, allowing Gatiman’s teams to infiltrate—something the demon found difficult to believe.
“Trust me,” Vir said, showing his featureless black mask to the kothi as they moved into position. “I have contacts within the castle. They’ll be open.”
Unlike Sonam or even Daha, Samar Patag’s castle sat in a walled compound that was surrounded by the Commons. There was no District of Internal Affairs or a Royal Quarter that would ordinarily separate the royalty from the others.
Part of it was due to scale—Samar Patag was simply incomparable to the size of those larger human cities. Part of it was philosophical—on account of a tradition of Gargan rulers wishing to be closer to the citizens they ruled.
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Whichever the reason, Vir was happy for it—it reduced the difficulty of their task considerably.
Rounding the bend into a nondescript alley, Vir looked around to ensure it was empty. It was—a lone kothi leaned against a wall. His contact.
Vir wondered for a moment why all secret passages seemed to end up in alleys, but he supposed it made sense. They were convenient locations that wouldn’t arouse much suspicion.
Vir looked back at Gatiman. “Are you ready?”
Gatiman glanced at his soldiers, then nodded. “Let us proceed.”
From under his mask, Vir smiled.
So far. So good.
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Shawan arrived at the location this Vaak character had marked, half expecting to find nothing. The very thought of that Gargan ordering them around made his blood boil. Only his immense strength kept Shawan from lashing out. Besides, with that mask, and with how it’d become something of a fashion trend among the Gargans, it was impossible to know if he had the right one.
At least they could use him for this operation. If Vaak could truly sneak them into the castle—something Shawan still doubted—then this cooperation between them would prove useful, after all. Then, when Gatiman had claimed the mantle of Samar Patag’s governor, they would hunt down Vaak and execute him.
Strong though he was, there were any number of ways to end Warriors such as him. Poison, or a dagger to the throat while he was asleep. It was impossible for anyone to maintain their guard at all hours.
Shawan only wondered whether killing Vaak would be enough to wipe the stench of impurity he currently felt by allying with him. What if it never washed off?
Well, perhaps it was the price they all had to pay for success.
Shawan nodded to the lone kothi in their alleyway, who nodded back and walked to a door. Unlocking it, he entered, beckoning Shawan and his squad of four to follow.
The door led into the dinghy sort of room one might expect for such an area. Small, damp, and rotten-smelling.
Normal in every way… Save for the propped-open hatch in the center of the floor.
“These exits are one-way,” their guide said. “You may exit, but none may enter.”
“Who are you,” Shawan asked, his curiosity peaked. This was already further than he’d assumed Vaak’s aid would bring them. Perhaps he wasn’t as stupid as he’d thought.
Why the Gargan wished to oust Asuman—who fought far harder for the Gargans than Gatiman would ever do—Shawan didn’t understand. It was for this reason he suspected an ulterior motive.
And yet, the prospect had been far too tempting for Gatiman to ignore, despite Shawan’s warnings.
Perhaps it is I who was wrong, Shawan admitted to himself as he watched his troops climb down the hatch. Perhaps the moron truly does intend to aid us.
Shawan slipped down the ladder once his squad was through and exchanged a small nod with the one who’d allowed them in.
Dropping into the tunnel, Shawan found it dimly lit, with only a handful of magical Light Tablets placed along the walls.
Deficient for most other demons. Plenty for them. Kothi eyesight and hearing was superior to all but the Iksana, after all.
They made good time down the hall and up the circular stairwell, pausing only to listen for sounds above and around them. This was nothing to be afraid of. They were within the walls of the castle, after all.
Shawan took the lead, and soon, they arrived at a wall. Their destination.
Assassinating Asuman was Gatiman’s job, but simply killing the governor would not grant them the keys to the city.
Asuman had friends and allies. Those who would oppose such a change of power. Of course, Raja Matiman could swoop in and decry their usurpation, but Shawan doubted the Chitran lord would care. Politics and government seemed distant from that kothi’s mind, and few even knew where he was.
All that mattered was that he wasn’t in Samar Patag.
Shawan pushed open the door and charged out, talwar high in his hands.
He made it as far as the middle of the room before his blood cooled and his steps ground to a halt. His troops followed suit.
“W-what is the meaning of this!?”
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Meanwhile, Vir stole down a passage of his own, following Gatiman and their squad of five. While Asuman was not a Warrior on the level of Gatiman, he’d decided it prudent to bring along extra help.
Vir wholeheartedly agreed.
Too bad it wouldn’t help him one whit.
Gatiman pushed open the secret door, leading his squad to storm into the room.
“What!?” Gatiman gasped. “Where is this? Where are—”
The confused kothi’s words died on the tip of his tongue as he stared at the armored kothi warriors that surrounded him.
“Tsk, tsk, Gatiman,” Asuman said, speaking from the midst of the thirty-odd soldiers who occupied the room. “What a foolish move, even for you.”
Gatiman whirled, his confusion turning to full-blown panic.
His eyes came to rest on Vir, who leaned with arms crossed against the now-closed, hidden door.
“You!” Gatiman shouted.
“Yes. Me,” Vir replied, looking at Gatiman through his featureless mask. “Did you truly think I believed one word of what you said? All your promises about fair treatment for the Gargans once you ascended to power? You are a fool, Gatiman. Worse—you are a blind fool.”
“Y-you were working with Asuman this entire time!” Gatiman said. “You—this… You think you’ll get away with this?”
“That I do,” Vir replied, smiling wryly from under his mask. It seemed the situation hadn’t quite sunk in yet.
Vir nodded to Asuman. “Why don’t I let the governor explain in my stead?”
“Let us discuss your crimes against the state,” Asuman said. “Leading a coordinated assault into the Royal Castle with the intent of murdering the head of state and those sympathetic to him. That is your crime, and the crime of those you have led. You understand, don’t you?”
Gatiman looked very much like he did understand. The color had drained from his face. His shoulders sagged and his talwar drooped.
“Now. Will you resist?” Asuman asked. There was a clanging of metal as his troops tensed. “Or will you come peaceably? Truthfully, I detest even giving you the option. You should thank our mutual friend for that.”
Gatiman’s eyes slowly turned to Vir. “You?” He asked in disbelief.
“I am no cold-blooded murderer. Which is, sadly, more than I can say for you.”
“You say the words,” Gatiman muttered. “But you do not mean them. You knew how we would react. You know that there is but one option for honorable Chitran Warriors!”
Vir did his best not to snort. “If you’re honorable, then I dare not imagine what a scoundrel looks like.”
“Die!” Gatiman roared, lunging at Vir. Warlord's Domain and Warlord's Battlecry augmented his words, but the mighty Chitran Bloodline Arts broke and shattered on the wall that was Prana Armor.
Vir didn’t move. He didn’t have to.
A single supercharged Prana Dart shot out and pierced the kothi’s head.
Gatiman collapsed, coming to rest in a crumpled heap in front of Vir’s shoes.
Vir gave the dead demon a cursory glance, then looked up at Gatiman’s Warriors.
“Anyone else?”
His query was answered by the sound of swords being flung onto the ground.