ACHILLES’S POV—NEXT MORNING
For the second morning in a row, Achilles woke up from unconsciousness in an unfamiliar bed.
This time, however, he understood where he was.
But he could remember nothing about why he was there. He remembered fighting the dwarf in the vault. The invader had tanked his hits, then punched him repeatedly—
And Achilles had blacked out.
How was he still alive? Had Virgil saved him somehow?
But he was so tired he could hardly move.
Achilles fell asleep once more.
He woke up later when a hand shook him awake. Achilles sat up and yawned, realizing that Sir Azarah was in the room. “Oh!” said Achilles. “You’re back! Please, what happened after I was knocked out?”
Sir Azarah was wearing ordinary clothes and seemed to be perfectly fine. It didn’t look like he’d been fighting recently. “Lanter saved you,” he said. “He tells me he gave you the opportunity to fight to the utmost of your ability, but it simply wasn’t enough compared to such a powerful enemy. He stepped in to save your life at the last moment, but admired your tenacity during the fight.”
Achilles rubbed his head. His own system information told him that he was at one HP, and he immediately used his daily healing ability to recover to full. “The butler? I thought I was going to have to save him. How on Earth did he fight off the other burglars, let alone that dwarf?”
Sir Azarah chuckled. “Lanter is at the top of his field, you could say. When it comes to caring for this estate and performing his duties, Lanter is even more powerful than myself. But I won't give his secrets away. You can talk to him and see how much he wants to tell you about it. Just know that he is grateful for your bravery, even if it was foolish. He admires your drive for heroism.”
The night gestured toward the door. “I need you to get dressed! You took a prisoner last night, and that’s something Lanter wouldn’t have done, had he been the one to fight her. This may be an interesting and valuable opportunity.”
“What do you mean?” Asked Achilles. He got out of bed and immediately began dressing, ending by stripping Virgil on to his waist.
“These were no ordinary burglars. Lanter and I had suspected as much. We knew that this particular servant of mine was plotting against me for several months, and it seemed that his capabilities were far too advanced for him to simply be a Rogue or something similar himself. We believed he gained abilities from a much more powerful force.”
The knight eyed Virgil on Achilles’s hip. “I remember what that sword talked to us about. Its thousand eyes and how they could grant power. It makes me wonder if my traitorous servant and his ‘boss’ were powered in the same way.”
Achilles flushed. “Are you accusing me of working with them, Sir?”
Sir Azarah laughed. “Not at all! But come now, let’s get to this.”
They traveled through several corridors and went into the basement of the mansion, on the other side of the house from the vault. Within a tightly locked room that was like a jail cell, the Rogue Achilles had knocked out was tied to a chair. She still wore her leather armor from the previous night, and was covered in blood from their fight, but was conscious.
The butler was also present, and he held the lamp. He bowed to Sir Azarah as he and Achilles entered.
“Well,” said the knight. “Let’s get started! Tell me who you are working for, Burglar, or Lanter here is going to start chopping off your fingers one by one.”
Achilles was astounded at this sudden bloodthirst, but he held his tongue.
The Rogue was in either her late teens or early 20s. She had long black hair that seemed to have been tied behind her head, but now was scattered around her face. Her blue eyes burned fiercely, and she seemed completely unintimidated.
“I won’t beat around the bush,” she said. “At this point, I think the wisest course of action is to reveal to you that I’m an Imperial double agent. My partner and I’ve been working for the Dwarf crime boss Ghetorix for two years now.”
Achilles was blown away by this claim, but neither Sir Azarah nor the butler seems to be fazed.
“Quite a story,” said Sir Azarah. “Do you have any proof? Your partner, by the way, is dead. Assuming he was the other Rogue sent on this mission. Lanter here cut off one of his arms and broke every bone in his torso.”
The barest flicker of emotion passed over her face, and she nodded. “We both knew the risks. We’ve done nothing to betray our true allegiance while in Ghetorix’s crew. He died for his Emperor, even if he was killed by a servant of the Emperor.”
Sir Azarah snorted. “So in the service of the Emperor, you would steal the sacred treasure of the Emperor?”
“Ghetorix works for someone powerful,” said the Rogue. “None of the rest of his men know about it. At least, a few of them are in on the secret, but even they don’t know much except that they’ve been given some special powers by their boss’s boss. My orders were to do whatever was necessary to discover the rising power behind Ghetorix, short of killing the Emperor himself. If that had meant even killing you, Sir Azarah, one of the Emperor’s favorite knights, that would’ve been my duty.”
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She narrowed her eyes. “Compel me with the Grand Geas. That will reveal the truth.”
Sir Azarah seemed shocked at this, but he nodded. “By the Emperor’s soul, reveal the truth of thy vow.”
The knight’s eyes began to shine with a bright light, as did the blood in his veins!
The Rogue screamed and threw her head back, straining against her bonds as her own blood turned suddenly bright. Steam or smoke began to rise from her skin, and when she strained her head forward to meet Sir Azarah’s gaze, a shining symbol appeared on her forehead. “My soul is bound to the Emperor’s own,” she said in a strangled voice. “His whim is my command.”
Sir Azarah glanced away from her, and the light vanished from both of their bodies.
The Rogue slumped forward, seeming completely exhausted. She spat blood onto the floor.
Achilles could take the sight no longer. “Are you all right?” he asked urgently, and approached the chair.
The butler stepped forward, but Sir Azarah put a hand on his shoulder. “Achilles, you may release her. She speaks the truth. She would not have reacted at all unless she was under the Grand Geas, which only the Emperor’s bloodline can bestow. From this moment on, she is our guest, and will be treated as such.”
Achilles drew Virgil. Good morning, sorry for not talking to you already, he thought to himself. Can you…
Virgil became a short knife. Achilles used it to cut the Rogue’s bonds, then put an arm around her shoulder to help her stand up. “Sorry about last night,” he muttered. “I guess I’m glad I didn’t kill you, then.”
The Rogue wiped bloody spit from her mouth. “Nothing to be sorry for. We were both doing our duty. Had I killed you, I would have felt remorse, but not regret.”
Achilles frowned. “What’s the difference?”
She gave a laugh that was almost like a giggle. “The difference is something I try to tell myself exists to make myself feel better about this kind of work.” She clapped Achilles on the back, as though to thank him for helping her up, then stepped away. “Is this a secure location, Sir? If so, I’ll happily share what little information I have.”
Sir Azarah seemed amused. “No, I’ll share what I know first, then you can fill in the gaps. The Dwarf Ghetorix tried to steal the Imperial platinum, and we believe the intention was to deliver it to his master. The Imperial platinum is, of course, a powerful magical material, one of the few remaining substances in our civilization which carries the blessing of the gods. It’s one of the few tools we have which are effective against demons.
“Before he died, Ghetorix attempted to eat a silver and black beetle, likely to gain some power which he believed would let him defeat even an Ultimate Art. This beetle disintegrated after Ghetorix died, so we were unable to identify it. This sounds like demonic magic to me, so I assume Ghetorix’s master is some demonic power which seeks to rid humans of their abilities to fight against it, rather than being a person who is trying to make a new anti-demon weapon.”
The Rogue seemed impressed. “That’s essentially everything that my partner and I discovered, yes. Ghetorix has never used a beetle himself before, but has given beetles to two or perhaps three of his minions. We haven’t yet been able to spy on Ghetorix as he meets his master, leading us to wonder if the beetles themselves are being used as messengers.”
She pondered for a moment. “It would be impossible for demonic magic to teleport Imperial platinum, with its divine blessing, so Ghetorix would have had to physically give the platinum to his master. My partner and I were intending to ambush them during this, or at least to follow whoever took the platinum to learn their true identity. That’ll be impossible now, I’m afraid.”
Sir Azarah nodded. “Though I understand you were working for the Emperor himself, and no doubt received your orders in good faith, I don’t like the idea of giving up such a treasure simply for a chance at learning our enemy’s identity. I’ll need to give this a lot of thought. Don’t worry, I’ll report all of this to the Emperor myself.”
The Rogue seemed surprised. “I’m more than capable of delivering the report, Sir Azarah. Please don’t think that I’m incompetent simply because…”
She glanced at Achilles. “You didn’t explain who this is. I have no idea of his identity, which surprises me, considering it’s my business to know who wields the ancient artifact weapons. For that matter, I don’t even recognize his weapon! Yet not only did he defeat me, but he looks even younger than me. Is he an immortal, or a homunculus, or what?”
Sir Azarah burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s hilarious! I’m afraid Achilles here is no secret immortal. He’s the son of Ajax himself, and he wields the Eldritch blade which Ajax carried into hiding years ago.”
Achilles stood a little taller at his father’s name, and Virgil formed back into a longsword in his hand. Achilles sheathed the blade and gave an awkward bow.
He felt himself flush a little, realizing in the lantern light how beautiful this girl was. She was a little taller than him, with very pale skin and a freckled nose. She was slim, but had been very strong during their fight, and carried herself with pride and dignity.
Achilles admired her service to the Emperor. Her life sounded incredibly interesting. “Achilles at your service, Miss. My sword’s name is Virgil, and he gave me the power to defeat you. On my own, I’m just an ordinary human. Well, a 1st Level Warrior. What’s your name?”
She nodded in return. “Nice to meet you, Achilles. I’ve heard many stories about your father. I think I actually met him when I was one or two years old. My mother was the Imperial Spymaster back in the day. She would have rarely come to court, because the entire point of her career was secrecy, but would’ve known the Emperor’s most trusted servants.”
Sir Azarah snapped his fingers. “Circe’s daughter? Of course! I thought you looked familiar. And you have your mother’s sassiness, all right! Yes, I also saw you when you were an infant! Came to your christening, along with Ajax. You’re Medea, right? Why on earth didn’t you open with that? You would’ve saved yourself tremendous pain from the Grand Geas. Goodness, I just tortured an old friend’s child!”
The Rogue gave a wry grin. “To put it bluntly, Sir, I’d rather be known for my own merits than for whomever I happen to be related to. Besides, even if I had told you from the beginning, that doesn’t mean I couldn’t have switched sides. There have been Imperial traitors before, and there will be more in the future. Best to prove my innocence right away, don’t you agree?”
The butler reappeared, holding a tray of food and a pot of tea. “I’ve arranged for a clean set of clothes and a hot bath, Young Mistress. Eat now, and when this meeting is over, I’ll show you to your room.”
Medea snatched the tray from him and immediately began stuffing her face with pastries and fried potatoes.
Achilles glanced between her and Sir Azarah. “So what does all this mean?” he asked.
Sir Azarah rubbed his chin. “Well, you’re going off to the Frontier to become an adventurer, and I’ve decided Medea is going with you.”
The Rogue stopped eating for a moment, then glanced at Achilles. “Probably for the best,” she said with her mouth full. “He wouldn’t last two days on his own, no matter what fancy powers he has.”
Achilles’s head reeled, but he felt immense relief. Despite the wild happenings of the previous night, Sir Azarah still believed he had what it took to become an Imperial Knight someday.