“Who are you?” Captain Ralond said, pursing her lips in confusion. After the battle’s end, the mercenaries had been summoned back by the leaders to debrief, and receive their rewards from the grateful city lord. However, Jonathan had been pulled aside before entering the city.
“I don’t know what you mean, Captain,” Jonathan replied.
“You are not even level 220, but you fight with the strength of someone far beyond your level. I refuse to believe that someone with your power and potential would die at such a low level in Telvaria.”
“I had powerful enemies,” Jonathan replied, shrugging. It was certainly true.
“Hmph. Well, the city lord personally wants to see you. He has professed his admiration for your strength, watching you devastate hundreds of monsters within seconds, and taking out their leader.”
“Where is he?” Jonathan asked.
“Follow me,” Captain Ralond replied.
She strode off, through the open gates and into the city. A dwarven man clad in white robes, with a small diadem of silver on his brow waited in the street, surrounded by four high leveled guards.
“Ah, Joseph, is it?” The man said upon seeing Jonathan. “I am City Lord Harl. I am in your debt for the service you and your allies rendered to this city.” There was little trace of the accent that many dwarfs possessed, and he simply sounded like anyone Jonathan could have run into on the street back on Earth.
“Yes. I was told that you wish to thank me in some way?” He replied, trying to act deferent while preserving his pride. The city lord and his entourage were around mid Tier 3, but none of them were especially powerful.
“Indeed. I already promised your company a reward from the city treasury, a sum of ten thousand Leviathan Marks each, but you deserve something special.”
Jonathan nodded, and followed the city lord as he turned on his heel. Captain Ralond gave him a sharp, inscrutable look, and turned away to address the company. As they walked, Jonathan thought about just how quickly the value of currency had changed. The reward for a triple S ranked quest back in the Ash Heaps had been ten thousand Leviathan Marks, but here, it was simply a normal sum to gift to mercenaries.
“So, Joseph, tell me about yourself. My aides have informed me that you are only level 217. Is that true?”
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“Yes, City Lord. I have a few titles and boosts here and there,” Jonathan replied.
“Please, don’t stand on formality. Call me Harl. I respect those who carve a place out for themselves through strength.”
“Well, Harl then. I managed to eke out a few bonuses during my time in Telvaria that carried on down to here.”
“Intriguing. I rarely get to speak to people other than my councilors or my guards. You must be new here, right?”
“I arrived a few weeks ago, if that is what you mean.”
“Hmm,” Harl began, before pausing, as if was rethinking what he wanted to say.
Jonathan followed him in silence through the city streets, heading towards the citadel in the center. He was beginning to feel a bit of apprehension, but he had no idea why. Something about the way that Harl was acting put him off a little bit. He was almost too friendly, and the way he spoke seemed to be forced in a way, as if he was not used to talking to those who did not answer to him. Why then, had he gone out of his way to address Jonathan?
More suspiciously, all of his questions had been targeted towards the subject of Jonathan’s strength and his arrival into the Hells. While that was to be expected, given the reason for his summons, it still put him on edge.
They reached the citadel a few minutes later, and Jonathan’s apprehension only increased. There were over a dozen guards waiting around the gates, trying to pretend that they were unconcerned with his presence. However, his enhanced senses could pick up their elevated heartbeats and restless fidgeting.
As they neared the gate, Jonathan’s elemental senses picked up a ring of energy around the gate, which sparked and glistened to his sight. With his experience in conceptual energies, he could tell what exactly it was. It seemed to be aligned with some facet of truth seeking. As he analyzed it, he realized that it was some sort of mass analysis array.
“Joseph?” Harl said, his voice a bit tight. “What’s the matter?”
“Why is there an analysis array in the archway?” Jonathan asked, getting ready to fight. He was beginning to understand what was happening here.
“Ah, you know, just to ensure the safety of everyone in the citadel. Come on, if we already know who you are, does it really matter? Why, are you hiding something from us?”
Jonathan pursed his lips, and then sent the Void to his gauntlets. The game was up.
“Fine!” Harl roared. “If you want to play it like that, Hellbreaker, we can oblige.”
Jonathan almost froze at the sound of his honorific, but he channeled that surprise into a leap that took him a few dozen feet backwards.
“Lady Slothari told all of the city lords of the interior that someone of a low level with strength far beyond that would be appearing within this realm before long. You fit all the criteria. We will be rewarded richly for delivering you,” Harl spat, withdrawing a pair of maces from a storage device.
Realizing quickly that he had no real allies here, save perhaps for Branth, Jonathan turned tail and fled. The mercenaries would no doubt turn upon him at the thought of a reward. The guards exploded into motion, but he was still faster than them, despite his lower level.