Yeah, he’s just frozen up.
Which is at least partially unexpected, considering I haven’t even targeted him with any auras or anything… unlike the humans occupying the room with him. I can’t resist a smug grin at their pathetic struggles… most of them have already collapsed to the ground, foaming at the mouth if not worse.
My retainers fan out behind me, forming a half circle as I create my portable throne, sitting down in my new old favorite position. And then I break the silence.
“Well? Did you miss me? I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d see you again, not after you didn’t return to that town in the sewer. And yet here we are! Fate, or Serendipity? Either way,” I shrug.
Boz… still isn’t reacting. Did he just die on his feet?
(No, he’s definitely still alive,) Nyx observes.
I tap the fingers of my free hand across the armrest. “You know, most mortals are overcome with emotion the first time they meet a god, but this is excessive, don’t you think? Shouldn’t you at least be... I don’t know, groveling or something? At least saying something?”
Ah, there we go, some sign of life! At least he’s shaking like a leaf now, I guess?
“Lady Nemesis?” my wife interjects, “I’m not sure we’re going to make progress like this… the pooka is clearly terrified beyond what his mind can handle…”
“That’s fair.” I consider standing to approach Boz on his own terms, but… nah. Instead I performatively raise a hand and, with a poking motion, give his will a nudge.
And he inhales sharply… collapsing on the spot.
Well, whatever I guess. At least he recognized me.
“Olive?”
“This one serves,” the fox spirit promptly responds.
I can’t help grinning again. “Deliver this fool to Vivianne to await my arrival. Ensure that he is treated as a guest and properly prepared for an audience in the reception room.”
I can practically feel the murderous glint in my eye as I finish, “We go way back, after all, and I’m looking forward to continuing where we left off.”
***
I hand off the remaining humans in the building to the vampire enforcers. I’m glad I’m surrounded by so many competent people… Nyx made it clear that if I just kill people here left and right then we’ll have humans abandoning the plane in droves, and that would defeat the purpose of restoring it. Which… well, whatever.
“Passed unto this one, words of question by one of state,” Olive incomprehensively offers, earning her a confused head tilt from me.
And a blank look to go with it. “Huh?”
She starts to speak again before I frantically point at the writing tablet hung from a pocket in her apron, which she disappointedly retrieves before writing it out instead.
“Hm, hm. Nerin, yeah? Eh, if she can’t figure out what to do with that prisoner or whatever then… well, she’ll figure it out. I’m busy.”
“Busy with what?” Nyx asks after materializing next to me.
“Doing anything other than dealing with that! …Wait, now that you have a body, will facepalming like that all the time actually wear a track in it?”
“Oh shut up. Idiot.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
***
“So, I’m putting you in charge of managing dungeon entry and materials.”
The burly woman looks at me confusedly for moment, before finally responding.
But an equally confused ‘Huh?’ wasn’t what I was looking for. To be honest, I expected better from the leader behind smuggling operation number two, the one in the dungeon town.
I sigh and let the ash scatter. “I said, I’m putting you in-“
“Yeah, yeah, I heard that,” the fool interrupts, “but what I don’t get is what you mean by that.”
The rattle of moving steel and grinding teeth behind me echoes in the small room as my retainers bristle at the slight, and I let my glare settle on her for a moment before I choose to elaborate. “First of all, never interrupt me again. This is your one warning.”
She seems to be taking it to heart as well from the way the blood drains from her face, but I cut her off as she begins to stammer a reply.
“What I mean, is exactly what I said. You are already organizing an operation here. You will repurpose it to serve my needs, and in return I won’t give you a fate worse than death. It’s not that complicated, you know. All you need to do is choose underlings to operate an entry stand at the dungeon entrance and arrange a trade shop for dungeon goods.”
The dumb look continues, causing me to rub the bridge of my nose. “You were going to smuggle dungeon materials out of this plane. MY PLANE. But instead of destroying you for your transgression, I’ve decided you’re going to manage this dungeon in the same way as the Adventurer’s Guild would. They don’t have a branch here, after all. You are going to ensure that those entering or leaving will be of an appropriate level or party organization, and you will offer to purchase items and materials harvested. I will permit you to resell those goods at a profit so that you can afford to continue the operation. I don’t care if those sales are to other planes – but you absolutely will not smuggle them. You will document your trade and make regular reports to my government.”
I can see that I’m starting to get through, so I move to seal the deal.
Leaning closer I conspiratorially whisper, “If you play your cards right, you might just get your organization here recognized as an actual Adventurer’s Guild branch. If I were you, I’d work hard to make sure that you meet their standards.”
Oh good, she’s nodding. “Y-yes! Yes! I can do that!”
“Good,” I say with a sinister smile spreading across my face. “Write up a plan for how you’re going to organize what I’ve described, from the beginning, and present it to Abaris – the one in charge of trades and merchants. I have nothing more to say on the topic, for now. Get to work.”
***
“If I may ask, what exactly is the plan for the pooka?”
I look over my shoulder at the centipede knight without disrupting Olive – she insisted on scrubbing my back before making use of the ridiculously large bath in the castle, another thing that she insisted I needed to do despite being made of ash and not gathering body waste like a human.
“What do you mean?” I ask back.
Vivianne looks at me thoughtfully for a moment before saying, “Well, you clearly have some kind of plan for it, yes? Considering your instructions to ensure it is properly prepared for an audience, we’ve assigned maids and ensured it is at least meeting the minimum standard of sanitation. We’ve also provided proper attire, considering it lacked anything worthy of more than a stable.”
I nod. “Yeah, that sounds like Boz.”
She exhales sharply through her nose. “I will not pretend it was anything but a foul experience, so I do hope this is for a good reason.”
“What?” I smugly grin back. “I meant what I said. We go way back. The first time we met I nearly scared his soul from his body, and the most recent meeting was the same. But you know what? I’m pretty sure he’s just his normal level of terrified and doesn’t truly understand his circumstances. I want to make sure he does understand before anything else happens.”
“Hm, I see,” she nods thoughtfully. “So your goal in wasting resources on that animal-”
“Stop,” I interrupt. “I’m a monster. You’re a monster. He’s a monster. If he’s an animal, so are we.”
Olive chuckles darkly behind me as Vivianne face twitches, almost failing to catch the look of rage I’m sure was on its way.
But I choose to brush it off and instead flippantly continue, “Besides, it doesn’t matter. When I’m done with this ‘bath’ or whatever, I’ll decide what do with him. Maybe I’ll employ him, kill him, or just kick him out of my plane, but regardless which one, you know what?”
I disrupt Olive and turn to face the knight, locking eyes with her. “He is fun to terrify, and I am going to terrify him. I am going to terrify him with the full weight of my presence, and I am going to make use of the past trauma I’ve inflicted upon him to amplify the effect. You are welcome to be present for it, and you are welcome to participate in it along with my other retainers; that is one of your rights as my retainer, as well as hopefully one of your joys.”
The ornate washroom goes silent around me for a moment, but Vivianne doesn’t break eye contact, her gaze hardening.
“What? Speak. I’ll never deny you that at least.”
She finally looks away. “You’re far more hostile than she ever was.”
“Well,” I answer, “I’m not her. Granted I’m as much her and the Queen of Hunger as I am myself but I’ll never truly replace her, not entirely.”
At that I stand, and my fox maid leads me to the oversized pool of water where Izahne, Rose, Pearl, and even Nyx wait covering their bodies with towels.
“You should have just gotten in or whatever, right?” I ask, although I must admit some part of me feels pleased that I’m the guest of honor in my own home.
And as they look on confused I drop into the hot water, soaking everyone in the room.