Watching the Aerilians form into six-man squads and take their assigned positions made John wonder about their battle strategy.
"Why form into those groups?" He asked. "Wouldn't that make them susceptible to area-of-effect type abilities?"
"It depends. Those who joined the prince's retinue are specialized for their roles," Galan'il explained. "They might be young and only F-grade, but they are well trained and have their attributes and cards balanced for the limits of common combatants of the retinue."
Right, that makes sense, John nodded in understanding.
Remembering the skill Galan'il and Duraq'er showed made him realize how little chance an average human group has against a trained Aerilian squad.
"If you don't mind me asking, what is your actual grade?"
"I am a bit of a special case," the Knight-Protector smiled. "I was at the peak of E-grade and only got slightly inconvenienced by the attribute seal. Duraq'er has it much worse, though. Being the protector of the royal bloodline, he was in low B-grade. Now, his attributes are sealed, leaving him as a very experienced peak E-grade expert."
Damn, does that mean, every incursion has a couple of absolute monsters?
"I know what you are thinking," Galan'il chuckled.
"That we are totally fucked?"
"It's not that bad," he offered. "Or well… it kind of is, but there are also very strict limitations for all invading parties. Each group is allowed only one member who is designated a protector and can be up to peak B-grade, but, err… I shouldn't be telling you this, so do keep it to yourself, but the one designated as a protector is only allowed to attack natives who either attack a shelter under his liege's control or attack him or his liege. Otherwise, he has to remain neutral."
"Huh, that is interesting," John nodded.
"However, he is not forbidden from provoking you or baiting you to attack first. When you do… well I believe you might be one of very few natives capable of winning that fight."
"And the rest of the retinue?"
"One out of ten can be up to D-grade and will be sealed to a middle E-grade and later, one out of five thousand could be up to a peak C-grade and gets sealed to a low D-grade."
Tilting his head, Galan'il excused himself and headed to the cluster of Aerilian officers shortly after, leaving John to his thoughts.
So, the longer I spend fucking around, the worse will everything get.
Sighing, he pulled out his main body card and rechecked his progress.
[John Miles {E⋆}
Strength: E (30), Perception: D (40), Vitality: D (55)
Fate: D (70 + 35)
Dexterity: E (20), Focus: D (40), Willpower: D (40)
Soul marks: Shroud of the Fate-Stalker
Elevated bond: Witherfang {F⋆}]
Good, only three more attribute cards and I am a D-grade myself. Oh! It seems Witherfang also finished her evolution.
Focusing on her name, he brought out another pop-up.
[Witherfang {F⋆}
Affinity: Death: F
Next evolution: 0/150]
Unfortunately, this was not the place to summon her, so he dismissed both screens and walked toward the western wall.
In the meantime, the group of natives arrived and set up a position on the edge of the outer circle.
Either they are preparing for a battle or they are uncertain about what to do next, John mused, observing them from the top of the wall.
The stalemate remained for a few more minutes with both sides silently staring at each other until the group of natives made their first move.
Luckily, that move consisted of a five-man group stepping through their ranks and carefully walking across the open ground.
"H-hello? Can you understand our language?" Asked an uncertain voice of an older gentleman in the front of the group after only a dozen meters remained between them and the wall.
"Yes, we can," came a reply from the unmistakable voice of the Aerilian prince. "What are your intentions for coming here?"
"We came to get a better understanding of our situation," the man answered with a bit more confidence. "Are you willing to meet with our leaders and explain what benefits and requirements pleading fealty bring to us? If you can show us your sincerity, I am instructed to say that we would prefer a peaceful solution."
"That is acceptable, but before you leave, may I ask what shelters you represent?"
"We speak for the New Hope and the Valiant's Stand," clarified a woman wearing a green cocktail dress.
"Very well. You may send for your shelters' representatives and we will negotiate the terms of your fealty," Melis'ar offered. "And you have my word that they will be allowed to return unharmed in case we fail to reach common ground.
"But, what if…" the woman tried to ask another question, but stopped mid-sentence, likely due to Melis'ar's absence as he descended from the wall.
Watching them return, John remained on the wall, waiting for what would hopefully be a diplomatic delegation, but as the minutes stretched out, he became bored. Letting his mind wander, he came upon an important realization.
Wait, Perception was not the only stat I upgraded to D-grade! Shouldn’t Focus increase the range of my Abilities?
Looking above, the camouflaged Storm Wisp floated high in the sky, acting as his silent yet reliable companion.
Fly higher, he commanded with his will and watched its blurry form rise a couple dozen feet further away.
Hmm, hard to guess the extra distance at this angle.
Glancing at his hip, he briefly considered doing more tests with his stiletto but decided against it.
Oh damn! I forgot about my torn-up clothes, he realized and jumped down the wall, immediately focusing on the archway into his own bastion.
Luckily, it took less time, likely due to his increased Focus, before the structure manifested and he jumped through.
Stepping into the oppressing emptiness, he glanced around and walked to the south side with all the clothes he took.
Tearing down his own in a matter of seconds, he rummaged through the drawers for fresh underwear and socks before picking a white shirt and one of the black business suits.
The grey chainmail bore too many rips and tears to be reliable, so he left it on the ground before looking through the remaining drawer.
Fuck the tie, it only gets in the way, he closed it, pulled on a pair of uncomfortable boots, clipped his small pouch to his belt, tossed the mantle over his shoulders, and walked out.
"Hm?" He looked at the dozen Aerilians formed before him.
"Stand down," commanded Duraq'er after giving John a disapproving frown.
What? Oh yeah, that was…
"I… apologize," John sighed, understanding how dumb his impulsive action was.
"Come, His Highness wishes for your presence during the negotiations," the seasoned Knight-Protector nodded and headed to the south gate.
Joining Melis'ar, Dilah'ec, and Galan'il, they awaited the delegation's arrival together.
"Here they come," Melis'ar was the first to break the silence. "Remember leaving the negotiations to me, John. I might not be a good fighter, but I am good at social events and politics. However, for my body modification cards to work, I need to be the one asking questions and making promises."
"Don't worry, I'll only act as a guarantee, nothing more," John promised, but their talk was halted by Dilah'ec.
"I feel like…" she mumbled and briefly closed her eyes. "Something is off," she finished with a deep frown creasing her face.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
"Do you think they are sent to observe our defenses or worse yet, attempt an attack from the inside?" The prince asked back.
"I am not sure," Dilah'ec said with uncertainty. "But I think…"
"I recognize the bulky guy on the right as one of the leaders of Valiant's stand," John interrupted before their guesses could lead them somewhere everyone would later regret. "I would trust him to be genuinely interested in the negotiations. There are also others I saw before as well but can't tell much about."
"Very well, let them through," Melis'ar decided and waved at the group guarding the gate. Then, he turned back and softly added, "Don't take Dilah'ec's warning lightly, and keep your eyes open."
Nodding, they watched a nine-person delegation cautiously pass through the gate.
"Allow me to welcome you to Silverstar Enclave. I am Melis'ar, an Aerilian prince and the leader of this soon-to-be bastion," he swept his arms wide around him. "Please, follow me to the Desperate Fool's Inn, where we sit and negotiate a peaceful cooperation between our people."
Heh, acting all cordially, yet not giving them any other choice but to follow his wishes.
Paying careful attention to their reactions, more than half looked relieved, but some remained skeptical, covertly looking around or twitching in agitation.
The bear-of-a-man called Marcus gave him a questioning glance which he answered with a simple nod, making him lean left and whisper something to Lin's ear.
Letting them pass, he took a position behind them and even called down his Storm Wisp, letting it float behind his back and then hide in the corner of the ceiling after entering the inn.
If they believe Dilah'ec's warning has merit, I am going to take the potential threat seriously.
Looking over the ground floor, John noticed that the tables were moved together and filled with a wide variety of delicacies, creating a perfect place for everyone to sit down and relax.
Hmm, seems like they are not taking the warning lightly either, John noted after observing the calmly standing guards with their backs pressed into the walls around them.
It started with simple introductions, but as the minutes stretched out, the actual talks began in earnest. John remained standing as they pre-planned, only joining into the conversation when spoken to directly, and even then referring to Melis'ar with most of the questions or explanations.
The prince was more than generous, offering benefits that most of John didn't even know about, but that weren't currently important. The talks seemed to follow a good direction, but slowly, John's gut began sending mild warnings.
Hmm, is it just me or is that brown-haired guy not as satisfied as I would expect?
Keeping him in his peripheral vision, John slowly walked around the table, pretending to be intrigued by one of the larger trophies mounted on the wall behind the prince.
Orienting his body to cover his right hand from the seated guests, he briefly flashed three fingers as he neared the Duraq'er, and pointed through his body in the correct direction of the suspicious man.
The only response was a light tap on his arm as he passed, likely acknowledging his concern.
He remained admiring the massive lower jaw of a canine predator filling almost half of the wall's height for a couple of seconds before shaking his head and returning to his place behind Marcus's and Lin's chairs.
What followed was an explanation of possible future developments, potential dangers from other invading parties, and a bit about something called the World Summit, which would apparently happen at the end of the first month.
We are getting to the successful end, John thought as the diplomats begrudgingly agreed with the majority of the talking points and only remained to argue for what seemed to him like pointless concessions. If something is going to happen, it's gonna be soon.
"... and because of that, we are expecting to…"
The attack was almost instantaneous. One moment, Melis'ar was finishing his closing speech, the next, the brown-haired man shot a beam of pale-blue light from his eyes into the middle of the prince's chest.
Oh fu…
Before John even put his thoughts together and formed a proper response, he noticed a blurred movement in the corner of his eye.
What!?
With his D-grade Perception and Focus, he was barely able to follow the rushing figure trailing golden light behind its right hand.
No, not light, he realized watching it pass through the neck of the attacker, twirl in the air, bury itself to the hilt through the collarbone, and rip out through the man's back, tearing out half of the spine in the process.
That figure was Duraq'er and the trailing light was his blade.
"If anyone else moves, they die," the Knight-Protector declared with finality as his eyes roamed across the remaining eight seated natives.
Damn, is that a burn mark in the middle of his chest? John stared in awe at the deadly Aerilian. Right, Galan'il mentioned that he acts as a protector, but I haven't realized it to be this literal.
During the staredown, two things happened. First, the other guards that were previously standing around rushed forward like a tidal wave, covering the prince in a tight protective formation. Second, the natives were desperately trying to convince Duraq'er that they had nothing to do with it and had no idea about the attempted assassination of the prince's life.
"You are very lucky that John guaranteed for some of you," Duraq'er spoke out after the situation calmed down. "Otherwise…" he flicked his blade in a short arc, sending a few droplets of fresh blood on the floor. "We would…"
John remained in constant focus despite the lull in aggression and noticed immediately something off when a woman with short-cropped ginger hair sitting on the other side of Blackfist pulled a short blade into her hand under the table.
"Wa…" trying to yell out a warning, he realized it would be too slow.
Between one moment and the next, the blade got covered in black sheen and her hand stabbed left, heading blade first for Marcus's side.
No! John cursed and willed for his Wisp to shoot a lightning bolt into her hand. At the same time, he grasped his stiletto with his mind and desperately sent it to intercept the strike.
The bolt struck immediately, making the woman yelp and spasm, changing the trajectory of her knife as her elbow began locking up.
It's not enough, John realized as he pushed his body to cross the short distance between them. Luckily, his stiletto flew almost like a bullet, striking the black blade mere inches from the bulky guy's left breast.
The calm atmosphere once again broke into chaos, but the Aerilian guards must have been given very strict orders because no one retaliated against John despite his sudden aggression.
Instead, they began pulling Dilah'ec and the third Aerilian diplomat away, just like they did the prince a minute ago.
By then, John reached the back of the sitting woman, grabbed her by her shirt, pulled her out from the chair, and then slammed into the wooden floor.
Unwilling to put himself and others at more risk, he grabbed both of her arms and yanked back with his increased Strength until he felt her joints break and muscles tear up.
She cried out in horror and pain, but he ignored her and held her firmly pressed down. Both Galan'il and Duraq'er reached his position and seemed like they were about to finish the threat off, but John stopped them with a short shout.
Looking to the other side of Marcus at Lin, he got an idea.
"Lin, can you use your card on her and force her to reveal her plans?"
"I… I don't know," She stammered.
"Do it," John commanded. "Oh, and you should perhaps move a few steps back," he added, looking at the two Knight-Protectors flanking the captured woman.
Trusting him, they both walked further back and after John's nod, Lin used her rare card.
"Why did you attack us?"
Her voice had a deeper, ethereal quality to it, and as it passed through John and the woman beneath him, she immediately went lip.
"We had to," she spoke in an oddly disembodied voice. "New Hope and Valiant's Stand must not be allowed to fall under the filthy aliens."
Huh? What is she talking about?
"Explain!" Lin pressed, but her voice lacked the dominating power of her card.
"We are working for the New Order as spies, and our task was to ruin the… negotiations? so…" her voice began regaining the normal quality and she became confused about what was going on.
"She must have some cards protecting her mind," Lin warned. "She is breaking the compulsion."
Duraq'er walked to her and after a slight nod from John buried his blade through her back and a moment later cut her head off.
Damn, how else are we even supposed to deal with people like them? John wondered, staring at the motionless corpses before him. With abilities like Lin's or mine, people can be lethal threats even when locked up.
"I believe we have said all that was necessary, and now it is up to you and your shelters' leaders to make the final decision," spoke Melis'ar somewhere behind him. "This was an unfortunate situation, but because no one got seriously hurt, I am willing to leave it be. A small piece of advice, find someone you trust and get him a deck of counter-espionage cards, because the next time, you might not be as lucky."
Taking it for the dismissal it was, the remaining seven people began leaving the inn.
"John, thank you for saving my life," spoke the bulky man who stopped next to him. "Before I realized what was going on, I saw a glint of steel tumbling through the air before my chest, and if Lucy's blade nicked me…" he shuddered, leaving the rest unsaid.
"You knew her, this Lucy?"
"Yes, she joined us a day before the event and proved very capable of handling herself. She said she was one of the survivors that got overrun during the Relentless Assault," he shook his head, as he looked at her dead body. "This is all fucked up! Why would people do something like this, don't they understand that… Sorry, I just…" he sighed, hanging his head in defeat.
"You are doing well," John tried cheering him up. "Show them that you are the rock they can rely on, because if not you, who else?"
"You?" Marcus asked back, catching John a little off guard.
"Me?" John frowned, unsure what to say. "No… it can't be me. I will do what I can behind the scenes, but leading others… that's not something I am good at. What about Tom?"
"He is too young," Marcus sighed. "He is trying, but it's not enough. After he found out that this was not just a game where he was the dashing hero, he grew too dependent on others. First, it was Mark who weaseled his way in and after you took that bastard out, it's now Mirabelle. She isn't that bad, but her priority was always herself and Tom is… a fool."
"Yeah, I… I made a mistake giving him the shelter card," John voiced out what he was weighing on him for the last few days. "Sadly, he was the only one I knew back then."
"It's alright," Marcus clapped his meaty palm over his shoulder. "You saved a lot of lives doing that, and I am ashamed of how we have repaid you."
"Damn, you know how to turn the conversation around, don't you?" He joked, making Marcus chuckle.
"Hey, can we really trust them?"
"As best as I can say, yes. There are bound to be some complications later on that I'll not get into now, but trust me on this, we have all gotten really lucky getting them, because the other possibilities were all much much worse."
"I'll make sure the alliance goes through," Marcus gravely nodded and followed after the rest.
"This can be counted as a win, right?" He asked no one in particular but got an answer from Duraq'er.
"It could. You did well, stopping the second assassin before she got to anyone."
"Thanks, same with you," John nodded. "Are you really okay?"
"Mhm," he grunted. "Not the first time I had to take an attack for His Highness, not the last."
"Isn't it a shame, letting all that food go to waste?" John asked with a nod at the piles of untouched delicacies in the middle of the table.
A more agreeable grunt came in the form of a reply and they sat down and enjoyed a short moment of peace.