The crowd was still gathered a short distance from the stables, somewhat closer than they had last left them, and those within furiously discussed what might have occurred within the stable’s walls. When Alden and Dayan approached, however, their discussions sank into whispers, then died altogether as the two came within what they thought was earshot. Alden’s ears being better than the common man’s, however, meant he could hear the expected gossip, which was unworthy of worry.
At seeing Dayan’s demeanor there was a noticeable dissociation between what the crowd had expected and the reality that was now before them. Those most affected were the group that Alden, in his heart, held most responsible for the preposterous turn of events, and who, driven by anger, were the first to speak.
“What has happened?” a Chanat warrior asked. Alden did not know his name, but recognized him as the loudest of Dayan’s supporters, and the one most likely to be the cause of this debacle. Over the past few weeks alone it became rare to ever see Dayan without him.
“Dayan has lost,” Alden announced. He gave Dayan a firm shove, sending him to his knees. “Before anything else is done, I demand you all stay and listen. As Baron of Lyonpool, it is my belief that I have done an injustice to you all. Perhaps due to my inexperience, or some other failing, I have somehow given the impression that my authority is mere suggestion. That I could, conceivably, be disobeyed. I intend to rectify this misbelief.
“Though I have humored the request made of me by Dayan and his fellow Chanat warriors, it was not without purpose, which I will now make explicit. I am your ruler! Save what the Empire dictates, my word is law. My desires are law. My demands are law. And it is my demand that rebellion, in any form, be destroyed the moment it rears its ugly head.
“Today, you all have seen a form of rebellion. I was challenged, with the intent that my rule might be usurped. This is unacceptable, and deserves punishment. Death would be sufficient. Barely. But I am a merciful lord, today, and so offer to Dayan an alternate punishment.”
From his Inventory he pulled out a knife of black steel and black wood. Its blade was marked with silver rivulets that shined as he turned it in his hand. An idle purchase from some months ago, when he had stumbled upon it in the System’s Store.
Knife of Anguish
Damage: 13
Effect: Causes temporary debilitating pain
He dropped the knife, which fell into Dayan’s open hands. Looking down at the blade, there was no question as to what Alden desired of him.
In a single stroke, from one side to the other, Dayan cut open his belly. He screamed as his intestines flowed out from his stomach and onto the grass. Alden saw panic in the crowd, though it was less than there had been for himself. He raised a hand to hush them to silence.
As Dayan bled Alden watched as his Health was depleted, waiting until Dayan was at the edge of unconsciousness. Then, with a simple touch of his hand to Dayan’s shoulder, and with an injection of mana, the bleeding ceased and the red, ropey intestines began to retract within him.
An air of fear was emanating from the crowd as he did so. So unusual and so spectacular was the punishment that there was not one among them who thought themselves capable of doing the same. Yet there was also a stirring anger in some, which turned to ferocity. The Chanat warrior from before, together with two others, rushed forward.
The closest of them bounced off Alden’s invisible barrier, conjured just as he noticed their approach. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked them. The answer was plain. In the hand of the most familiar of the three was a knife.
“They mean to kill you,” Dayan said, rising up from the grass with renewed vigor. He shared the ferocity with which the three had attacked, the muscles of his neck bulging noticeably, yet the object of his ferocity differed greatly from theirs. “They must be put down.”
“How dare you!” the familiar one yelled. Then he began to mutter something in the Chanat language, and Dayan grew red with rage.
“What did he say?” Alden asked.
“He calls me coward for bowing to you.”
“Hmph. How stupid.” He stepped forward, past his own barrier, and stood over the three of them, to which they shied back in fear. There was the desire to punish them, too, this time with the brutal force of his own hands, but Alden, knowing the futility of such an action, instead turned back to Dayan. “You have received your punishment,” he said, examining Dayan’s Loyalty Stat, which sat at 91. “I have your loyalty.”
“You do, my lord,” Dayan replied.
“Do not kill them.”
Taking his words as permission, Dayan ran forth, faster than the three Chanat warriors could react to. With a kick he broke the first warrior’s leg. Then he punched the next, the man’s jaw shattering and spraying teeth and blood out across the shrieking crowd. To the last, the man with the knife, Dayan gripped his forearm and squeezed until a cracking noise could be heard and the skin turned dark. Then he lifted the man above his head with both arms. Flailing and cursing, the mane could do nothing as Dayan, with his full force, flung the man down to the ground.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
A pathetic showing, Alden thought of the three warriors. How they possessed so much hubris he could scarcely imagine. He was tempted to be rid of them; subjects that refused to obey were no subjects at all, and Alden lacked the patience to mold them into proper citizens. That his emotions prevented the simplest answer to his problem was only further frustration.
He did not heal them as he had the others, except to halt their bleeding. “I will present to you three a choice,” he said. Dayan translated. “In lieu of execution, though it has been lawfully earned, you may choose to either partake in my magical studies or, if that so displeases you, you may instead be banished from the Empire.”
When the words were related to the three there was an exchange of words between them and Dayan. “They ask what it means to be banished,” Dayan said.
“It means that you must leave the Empire, and never return. You will return to Tejin’s Strait with only what you have on you, and can expect no aid or goodwill from us. And, in the case that you do return, and you are discovered, you will be killed.”
After another exchange of words, this time more heated, two of three opted for banishment. Commanding they be escorted to the border of Tejin’s Strait, Alden took the last by the shoulder and led him firmly to the stables.
The man, whose name was Manqa, was tense with fear. He said something to Dayan in a hushed tone, as if Alden’s hearing his words might bring retribution of some sort. Even had Alden known the language he might not have understood him; Manqa’s jaw was a mangled mess, twisted now to to the left, and all his words were slurred.
“He asks what he is to do,” Dayan said.
“He just needs to stand still and wait,” Alden replied. Explaining further, he thought, would bring little understanding to either Dayan or Manqa.
Manqa, his dark hair wet with sweat and blood, shrunk into himself as he waited. His breathing was soft, to begin with, and as time passed it quickened. He said something to Dayan.
“He asks how long,” Dayan said.
“Shortly,” Alden said. He read paragraph after paragraph, re-reading as necessary, forming the idea in his head.
Due to studying the Intelligence Stat has increased.
+1 Intelligence.
“I am going to do something,” Alden said, reaching out with a hand and grasping Manqa by the forearm, “that has never been done.”
“Will it hurt him? Dayan asked.
“It might,” Alden replied.
“I hope it does.”
Mana, in its simplest form, could be likened to something between gas and liquid. It flowed along a series of tubes within the body, akin to and attached to the veins and arteries that carried the blood throughout one’s body, until it reached its intended target which was, most often, outside one’s own body. But the physical form of mana, which possessed great power in even the smallest amounts, could, without proper control, easily destroy what one might intend to heal or change. Cells, for one, which possessed delicate membranes, were easily pierced. But it was also this piercing which destroyed the cell.
The solution, as painstaking as it was, was simple. Mana, in its infinite versatility, could heal the cell as easily as it could pierce it.
Manqa’s arm, which sat soft in Alden’s hand, possessed no great obstacle. His light-brown skin was layered over a modicum of muscle that was to be expected of a Chanat warrior, which was slightly more than the typical man-at-arms, and the veins and arteries which carried his blood were, unlike a number of other men Alden had treated, free of blockages. Dividing his mana into smaller and smaller streams, he began the delicate work of piercing into Manqa’s cells and, in the same motion, healing the individual cells once more.
Mana drained from him at an astonishing rate; Alden estimated that the solution to his problem would consume mana at a rate twice that of what he’d accomplished with the horse, which was confirmed by the System.
Warning
Mana is being depleted at a vast rate.
-900 mana/second.
Barely making it to the shoulder before his reserves ran dry, Alden released Manqa’s arm long enough to drink a mana potion. Then, once his reserves were restored, he used Diagnosis Magic to check his progress.
Skill Up
Diagnosis Magic has advanced to Rank A.
Reward: 50xp.
Thankful that his mana would be spared somewhat with the new Rank of his magic, Alden turned his attention back to Manqa’s DNA. He saw the earmarks of his changes to the DNA, subtle as they were. So subtle, he feared, that their effect, if any, would appear barely at all, or, in the worst case, might even prove detrimental to the poor man. It was these fears that forced him to stop his work at what he had already accomplished; Manqa’s arm, should the changes later appear as expected, would prove an interesting specimen of study.
“It is done,” he said, careful not to let his hesitation show through. It seemed to work, as Manqa remained oblivious, and in fact his attention was locked firmly on his own arm and body.
“What…?” Manqa said, trailing off in search of words. In the end he reverted to Dayan for translation.
“He says he felt your magic in him. What did you do to him?” Dayan asked. By the way he was looking at Manqa it was clear that the question was made partly out of his own interest.
“I’ve changed his DNA,” Alden replied.
“D…NA?” Manqa repeated.
“What is that?” Dayan asked.
He explained its meaning as he performed another sweep with Diagnosis Magic. There were no cataclysmic failures to be found; with such promising results Alden was, for the first time in quite some while, hopeful as to what the future might bring. When he was done with the third pass, done nearly an hour after the second, and seeing that there was nothing of note, Alden dismissed the two.
Alone in the stables, Alden tended to the horses as he continued his study. More than once he was tempted to make changes to the old horse, as he’d attempted before, but thought better of it. There was always more to learn, he reasoned, and there was no telling what results Manqa’s arm might bring.
As the day ended, Alden retreated to his manor and spent a few hours tending to letters and business. Then, with the day’s affairs completed, he retreated further into his room, where he studied until, at midnight, the long awaited blue screen appeared.
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