“Damn it! How the hell did Vermillion get wind of my plans?”
A tall man stood on the veranda of the Barony of Reims, overlooking the River Cairn. His skin was pale only further emphasized by his black and red steel armor, layered like waves across his proud chest. Chainmail skirted down from large, sharp shoulder pauldrons to his black steel wrist guards. Behind him, a large crimson cape fluttered in the wind, adorned with the sigil of his house, a knight kneeling awaiting the rising moon. His face belied his age, appearing to be that of a twenty-six year old man with a strong jaw and profoundly blue eyes, although at this moment red hues were beginning to show through them. Other than some slightly elongated canines, his teeth could be argued to be an image of perfection. In his hand was a solitary wine glass, filled with a viscous red liquid, which he sipped on slowly.
Traces of anger coursed through his otherwise melodic voice, which at first appeared to speak to nobody in particular, until a shadow dropped from the darkness of the sky to land on the veranda.
The flicker of light showed another man, pale skinned, and dressed in the servants’ robes of House Vermillion, but bearing the crest of a knight on his chest. While he usually bore an aura of arrogance about him, all vestiges of it were absent at this moment.
“Well, Asimore? Time is short. Tell me, how did Vermillion find out about you?”
“Fath—”
“Master. There are none around worth maintaining this… masquerade for.”
The sharp rebuke silenced Asimore, who bore no hint of the blade that had pierced his throat, but was still quivering in fear before this man.
“Master Horatio, I do not believe Duke Vermillion is as perceptive as you fear. It seemed to me his target was the peasant with Diane, not I.”
“Tell me… Asimore, do you question my judgement?”
Asimore dropped his head still further, shaking. “No, Master!”
“Then tell me… after he ‘killed’ you, what did he do?”
“He launched a surprise attack on us, Master.”
“And what of Diane and the peasant?”
“He sent a bounty to a bandit group, Master.”
“Then what happened to the bandits?”
“All of them… were killed, Master.”
“Now then, tell me of Diane’s abilities, tell me of the third daughter of Vermillion. His fifth and youngest child.”
Asimore felt that his master was coming to his point, but he still couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Plus, he was sure that Count Horatio already knew all this information.
“She was considered a failure at birth, Master. She couldn’t even manifest a mana heart.”
“Hmm, so you mean to tell me that a mere ten year old child and her peasant friend bested a group of six bandits, professional killers hired by Duke Vermillion? Or, do you think it more likely they were chattel sent by the duke to reinforce the cover of a professional agent? Acting against you directly… he was bound by noble laws; he would know better than to do such a thing. But as an accident, sending a man in secret to pose as a peasant to make this more… amenable to the prideful nobles, yes, I can see it now. A professional he knew who could so expertly dodge, that it would look so perfectly…”
The count’s voice began to trail off as he looked far beyond the River Cairn, towards Versailles.
“Asimore.”
“Yes, Master!”
His voice was shaking and his eyes were closed. He was prepared for the usual punishment of those who failed the count.
“There is something unusual about that… girl, this Diane. In spite of being a failure, it appears she has not only settled in Njord, but has joined the Adventurers Guild. However, there are limits to what my little birds can tell me. I am certain that Duke Vermillion is up to something.”
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Count Horatio’s eyes narrowed before he continued, “Of my subjects, you know him and Diane best. Even if you were deceived, I hope this experience has been… educational to you. I shall offer you a chance at redemption. Go to Njord and take on a new identity. I shall offer you this chance only once.”
“Yes, my Master. I shall depart immediately!”
To have received such an opportunity was so rare. This was the first time he’d ever saw the count show mercy.
Shortly after Asimore’s departure, another shadow approached Count Horatio from the darkness. This one did not manifest itself, and instead floated above the veranda, blocking the count’s view of the moon.
“Horatio von Krauss,” it rasped, “or should I say third child of House Draculae, His Eminence, Mobius, first child of House Draculae, has called the Elder Council to session. They find your… recent actions most concerning. There is a fear that you may be risking a major break of the masquerade. They demand your immediate presence.”
DAMN HIM!
That Mobius knows exactly what he was doing. The greatest thorn in the count’s side; a pathetic creature trapped in the old ways.
He clearly he knows what would happen to all of my work if I were to abandon Reims now. Duke Vermillion’s army is on my doorstep.
Count Horatio gritted his teeth. All his planning, all his work, all his efforts to build himself into a hero of the people, to become someone so trusted and indispensable to the kingdom… even if that plan was starting to crack before his eyes, he would rather die sticking to it than falling into cowardice and becoming like the rest of those old fools. He would need no deal with the Demon Lord Carinthus to stake his claim on the world, just wait and see!
“Tell the Council I will not be attending.”
“What? You cannot refuse!”
“I only have to acknowledge Father, the rest of you… cowardly ants…!”
With a swift movement of his hands, sharp claws flew out to strike through the shadow.
“AHHHHH! You will regret thissssssss…”
The shadows blended back into the night sky. Count Horatio looked down at the river, towards Archion, before he whispered quietly to himself, “Henrik… you must not fail me here. If we can secure the backing of at least one of the brothers, the Council will be too afraid to come for me.”
“Mako bean stew again? C’mooon, what kind of a stingy team leader are you? The count is paying us so much more now that the subjugation is off! Look, the other teams are even roasting meat. Why can’t we get something delicious, just this once?”
Angelina ignored Boris’s now nightly complaints against her choice of food. Mako beans were high in nutrients and protein, despite their lack of taste.
“We aren’t having any meat, Boris, because last time we went on a quest, you torched the village to kill a spider. The repair costs alone cleaned out our savings, and now, we need to save up again, otherwise we won’t be able to get our new members some decent gear!”
Boris himself was a native of Rivellion. He was pleasantly tanned, though fairly skinny, and his oversized robes made it appear almost as if he was a walking, talking twig. He wielded a wand and wore a silver wire headband with a single gem resting in the middle. Angelina was a former paladin of the church in Rivellion, and she wore full plate armor which she had modified with a design to her liking. She never brought up why she left the church.
The other two party members were rather new additions—a quiet red dragonkin from Ignis called Grimran (Boris couldn’t tell and never asked their gender, since the last person who did got a little… crispy) who specialized in close quarters fighting. The red dragon blood ran particularly strong in him and any threat to his hoard was treated with extreme prejudice. Then there was a lepian. Her name was Mosey. She had long and well-toned legs with large feet and a cute face with an adorable button nose. Her long, lightly furry ears were transitioning from their summer greys to a slight white, indicating the approach of winter. To have a healer with such incredible agility as her was guaranteed to provide success to any party, as she almost never needed any protection. Furthermore, the kick of a lepian was something to be feared. Unlike Ignis, she was incredibly talkative.
All of them also wore the coveted mythril plate of the Adventurers Guild.
“Look, how was I to know that one small flare would set their huts on fire?”
“Ahhh, it was such a nice little flare too!” Mosey said. “First, you screamed so pleasantly when the spider landed on your shoulder, then the hut went WHOOSH! Then you couldn’t get the spider off your shoulder and you made so much wind Then everything else went WHOOSH! Hehehe!”
“Yes, so as you can see, absolutely not my fault and unavoidable. But I am a reasonable guy, see? So I will let you off the hook tonight. But tomorrow night, you owe me some meat!”
One of Count Horatio’s knights entered the encampment. The dozens gathered there quickly fell silent as he made his announcement.
“Glorious adventurers! My lord, Count Horatio, to show his sincerest thanks for your service is willing to pay you early for all your work thus far! However, the dastardly Duke Vermillion is marching on us as we speak with an army of over thirty thousand troops, expected to arrive here tomorrow. We know our numbers may be small, but with quality as high as yours, the count has a genius plan to win and bring that bastard back to the negotiating table! Any adventurers who stay for the duration of the battle will receive double their initial compensation and an additional gold coin per day in battle with the duke!”
A gold coin? A whole gold coin per day? With that much wealth, they could cover all their expenses for months and still have some fun money left over! They easily would risk their lives for less, and what about facing the duke was any different than their original plans to crush some mountain goblins and orcs?
A massive outcry of support erupted from the camp. On his veranda, an insidious smile spread across Count Horatio’s face as the cries echoed up to his new castle. Everything was moving according to plan; he just needed to hold the Duke on the other side of the Cairn until nightfall tomorrow. Then, he would teach him the true meaning of fear.