Emily and I were sitting at the front of the carriage with Armen between us, while Renji and Elye sat on the roof. Saoirse and Ludwig waited within, while the horses created from black smoke took us towards the impressive white gate.
Main Gate it was called, but it was far more astounding than its generic name made it seem. The entrance to the capital was set into a wall that stood almost forty-metres tall and had guardsmen lining it at steady intervals, alongside great ballistae and smaller wheel-operated automatic crossbows. There were also a few people visible, both in the mouth of the gate and atop its walls whose aura demarcated them as Native mages, not to mention the wands and staves they wielded giving this away as well.
The gate was, like the rest of the city and its walls, built from white stone, but these were far larger than I’d assumed, when viewing the capital from the sky with my familiar, with each about two-metres tall and wide and stacked with a forty-five-degree rotation, such that they resembled diamond shapes rather than squares. I had no idea why they’d done it this way, but my first guess was because it was more difficult and thus displayed their architects’ and labourers’ prowess. The gate featured a double portcullis within, which Emily said was glowing as though it was magical, and double doors at either side that looked heavy enough to require twenty men to push them each closed.
Besides the impressive structure, there was a substantial checkpoint in place, with two groups of Witch Hunters on standby, alongside a Genius, and a full company of soldiers. From their auras, it was clear they took pride in their assignments to Main Gate.
The long queues of people wanting to enter made it clear why such show of force was necessitated. The queues were split into three: those on horseback or in carriage; those on foot; and those who already had a city permit. Given the few people in the queue for permits, it seemed they weren’t handing those out to just anyone.
“Do you have a permit?” I asked Renji.
“I don’t. Those are hard to get, y’know.”
“In my time, I had one. Those of the Church are awarded them as a matter of course. Granted, those were different times, when Otherworlders were appreciated more.”
“I thought they paid Otherworlders more in Lacksmey because they appreciated them, at least compared to Arley?”
“There is definitely more work that isn’t just handled straight away,” Renji answered. “Therefore, rewards are driven up to entice people to come from afar to work. Evergreen is one such place, but, just because they need the power of us Otherworlders, they don’t seem that interested in catering to us.”
“Is this another case of being treated like second-class citizens?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“Not quite that bad. You’ll definitely find more grateful people here than in Arley, but we’re still a minority here, so majority rules apply. Plus, Lacksmey has long been trying to establish Native Guilds to replace the work that we do, like the Explorers’ Guild that often tries to deal with similar Quests as the Adventurers’ Guild. The result is mostly that all the easy menial tasks are taken by the Explorers, while most of the dangerous work is left to us.”
“And they try to handle exorcisms sometimes, right?”
“It never goes well,” Armen remarked. “A similar thing was attempted back in my time. I imagine it is still a line of work that carries a high death rate.”
“It is,” Renji said. “Their attitude towards most difficult problems, like powerful monsters and such, is to just throw their numbers at it until they win. That alone means a lot of people die needlessly. For exorcisms, it often doesn’t matter how many people they throw at the problem.”
“I think it should be possible for them to do certain exorcisms if they had the right tools and knowledge,” I remarked.
“Will you provide that for them? You would be working against your own self-interest.”
“I don’t know yet,” I replied. “It depends on how receptive they are to advice.”
Emily nodded. “To aid in the good of all is a just cause.”
I smiled slightly. “That wasn’t exactly my reasoning, it’s more just, I think if these Explorers knew how to deal with ghosts and whatnot, then maybe us Exorcists would be treated better.”
“I see. That is working in your interest then. Though I must warn you against giving away your secrets. There is no saying what could happen if Exorcists become obsolete.”
“If they do not like you anymore, you can come live with Elfin, Yuuta,” Elye said, for once paying attention to a serious conversation.
“Thanks,” I replied, though I knew that living amongst their kind would probably drive me nuts.
Renji scooted down from the roof to sit between Armen and Emily, pushing me halfway off the bench. The Spellhand's aura was a sudden disarray of emotions, but she managed to keep most of them off her face. Renji was, as always in matters such as these, completely oblivious.
“I’ll pay the entry fee.”
“There’s a fee?” I asked, surprised.
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“Five silvers per person, two per horse, and eight for the carriage.”
I frowned. “That’s quite a lot.”
“Yeah, well, once you enter, you don’t have to pay again until you leave and come back.”
“Doesn’t that just lead to squatters?”
He grinned. “Sometimes. But the Evergreen Peacekeepers often get rid of them, after of course making them cough up more money.”
“Are we going to be okay?” Emily asked, concern in her voice.
“Of course!” he replied enthusiastically. “So long as you aren’t found sleeping on the street or squatting in abandoned houses or whatever, then the Peacekeepers will leave you be. My place is pretty big, so you can stay there as long as you like.”
“Thanks, Renji,” I told him sincerely.
He flashed me his eager grin. “Wait until you see my collection!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Of course he had a ‘collection’.
As it was our turn in the queue, our carriage rolled to a stop past the first set of double doors and the portcullis, covering us in the shade beneath the large gate. A group of Witch Hunters stepped forward and asked us all to get down from the vehicle, while a city guard asked for the entrance fee, which Renji immediately handed him. Soldiers were on standby not far away, and I got the sense that even if someone were to break through the checkpoint, they would not make it far.
Saoirse and Ludwig emerged from within the carriage, and one of the Witch Hunters asked for permission to search the interior, which Saoirse gave him. I wondered what he’d think about the pocket dimension within, but when he returned out the other door just a few seconds later, I realised that she must’ve returned it to normal. Ludwig likewise seemed to catch on to this, and I didn’t like the look he was giving Saoirse, though she played it cool.
The Witch Hunters then inspected our Guild Cards, and Saoirse once again helped obscure mine, while handing them her own which was totally fabricated. Ludwig showed the men a city permit that apparently exempted him from the inspection.
“Let me see that,” I told Saoirse after the man had handed the Guild Card back to her.
She gave it to me without a blink and, when I stared at it, I was taken aback by how perfectly she’d copied my own, in terms of feel and appearance.
‘SAOIRSE’
ROLE: Blademaster
RANK: Eminent
GENDER: Female
AGE: 27
ACUMEN: A
DEXTERITY: A
INTELLIGENCE: A
LUCK: D
PACT: C
SOUL: B
STRENGTH: S
VITALITY: S
ABILITIES
‘Omniglot’
‘Vanguard V’
‘Blademaster III’
‘War God’
‘Mountain Cleaver’
image [https://i.imgur.com/pTNXnvb.png]
Twenty-seven? Really?
Careful… her voice warned in my mind, and I knew not to push it.
Still, this looks pretty legit. What does Mountain Cleaver do?
Who can say. I copied it from a Blademaster I once Reaped.
I sighed in exasperation.
Suddenly the Genius who’d been standing in the back approached me. He was clad in an officer’s uniform of crisp white fabric with various gold and silver embellishments. In a way, it looked like a navy uniform. His face was angular and stern-looking, with his blondish-brown hair swept back, and his eyes a piercing-blue. They glowed slightly, which gave him a mysterious atmosphere that immediately made me worry.
“Exorcist Ryūta,” he started. “I have been asked to look after your Music Box for the duration of your stay here in Evergreen.”
Ludwig immediately pushed his way forward, while Saoirse moved towards the carriage. “That’s okay Kasbar, the Necromancy Guild is handling it. Mortl already received the required permissions,” he said.
“Apologies, Savant Pawn, but these are orders directly from King Egil’s mouth.” His aura was flat and emotionless as he said it.
What do I do!? I can’t just hand it to them!
Allow me, said Saoirse.
As though returning from the back of the carriage where we stored some of our belongings and bags, she came walking forward with a small box in her hands.
The Genius, Kasbar, looked at the object she was holding, a pulse flowing through his aura before it settled back down. His eyes were still glowing, and I guessed it was similar to what Bacchi had used to look at the containment. Immediately, the man frowned.
“It is without limitations, this confinement. Why would you make such a dangerous artefact?”
“Are you going to take the box or just continue to criticise the boy?” Ludwig asked, seeming offended on my behalf. Though, more likely, he was upset at having his authority usurped.
“Of course not, though I would caution Exorcist Ryūta to not undertake such reckless containments in the future.”
I nodded as if I had been sufficiently cowed by his scolding tone. He took the faux Music Box from Saoirse’s hands, while the real one felt like it was burning a hole in my belt bag.
You have partnered with a devious one, said the voice of Lyssalynne, as though she could sense what was going on around her. You could have used me! My voice will make them all forget!
I swallowed deeply at the sound of her voice, hoping she would quieten down.
What are we going to do when they realise it isn’t real? I asked Saoirse.
They never will. Have faith in my power of creation.
I thought about the Guild Card she had fabricated.
Alright, I’ll trust you. Thank you for helping me out.
I believe we should deal with your Siren tagalong soon, as well as the Curse attached to your former hand.
“Very well, you may pass through,” the Genius said, holding the fake box with both hands as though dropping it might trigger a calamity-inducing catastrophe.
We all got back on the carriage as before and drove through the checkpoint.
“I wonder why the King decided to change his mind about the Music Box,” Ludwig remarked as we emerged out of the gate and into the Great Marketplace district.
I was too busy looking around to pay his question much thought.