Stats were a wonderful thing. They rearranged fundamental biology, granted superhuman abilities, and gave a physique worthy of being preserved in marble.
They allowed people to bend the world to their will, making them hyper-aware of supernatural forces that are otherwise intangible. Stats were what helped heroes step beyond the realm of humanity and perform feats typically reserved for myths and legends.
They also make people hyper-aware of their surroundings, to the point where the vaunted abilities of detectives like Sherlock Holmes were mere child’s play.
Rowan now had a lot of stats. Stats he pushed as far as he could to analyze the situation at hand.
Kayla’s army was practically…vibrating? Their demeanor could charitably be called focused. Rowan, without any of that charity, thought they looked paranoid. How can you lead an army that looks so jittery? What’s going on here?
They glared and squinted at everything they saw. The setting of the meeting, the troops, the barriers they had set up, nothing seemed exempt. More than that, they didn’t seem to be really focused on the heroes nor their parties. Instead, an outsized portion of their attention landed firmly on the Mercenary King.
There were an astonishing five hundred or so mages. Rowan couldn’t understand how Kayla had managed to land her grubby fingers on that many but here they were. A whole section of fifty had their focus solely on Lucius.
The man pretended not to notice or care, but through their bond, Rowan could feel the echo of worry, fear, and shame.
The final thing that Rowan noticed, and that he didn’t need his stats for at all, was Tamara’s reaction.
Glee, vindication, and a twisted sense of fulfillment swept through the woman at the sight of Kayla. None of Kayla’s many mages seemed to pay Tamara any mind either. A couple of eyes briefly paused on the exiled mage, sparked with something like recognition or approval, and then moved past her.
A bitter smile tugged on Rowan’s lips as more than a few hints fell into place. There was something larger at play here. He didn’t have the whole picture but there were enough clues that he wondered if the situation would come back to bite him.
“Kayla!” Rowan shouted up to the woman who was still staring down imperiously at them without a single word. “Would you and your party please come down so we can properly talk?”
For just a moment, Rowan thought he saw the woman’s lips twitch. “I suppose that would be for the best,” she conceded, then stepped off the platform.
Even knowing that Kayla would never stupidly risk her life, Rowan felt his stomach flutter. The heroine went plummeting through the air, the dress somehow perfectly clinging to her form instead of ballooning around her, even if it did flutter.
Just before she was about to impact the ground, her momentum completely disappeared, leaving her to float delicately a foot off the ground. “Lead the way,” she said as she gestured.
Rowan grunted and led her towards the main tent they’d set up just for the occasion, with plenty of sound dampening and anti-scrying wards courtesy of the mages in their parties. Rowan idly noted that Kayla didn’t let her feet touch the muddy ground until they were inside where she landed on the carpet.
The others weren’t so lucky. Marching boots tracked in mud and purple grass that disappeared a few instants later thanks to special cleaning wards. As it turned out, the intersection of two rivers wasn’t the best place in the world to set up camp, even if it was convenient.
“Not going to have your party join you?” Rowan asked in genuine curiosity, only to earn a dismissive snort.
“I don’t have one,” Kayla claimed with no sign of deception. If anything, she looked downright proud to say that.
“Don’t — wait, how have you been functioning as a hero without a party?” The tone of Rowan’s voice might have been a bit too incredulous, but at least the emotion was mirrored by everyone else present.
In fact, it was enough to finally snap Blake out of his silence. “Stop playing games, Kayla. Even you need support.” His words were infected with anger, but they lacked most of their usual bite and vitriol. If anything, to Rowan, his best friend looked fragile, like he was desperately trying to pretend that everything was normal. That he was fine.
“Blake,” Kayla acknowledged him with the single word and a look, then completely dismissed him on her way to the table they’d set up. Circular, of course, so they wouldn’t have to deal with pride, jostling for significance, and other drama. “Not everyone needs a divine mommy to hold their hand. Or a trio of women.”
The disdain in Kayla’s voice was a dark, bitter thing. Enough so to make Blake wince and shut up, even if anger did flicker over his features for a moment.
Rowan was definitely growing worried. Not just because Kayla and Blake’s uncertain relationship, but because the effect of the card he’d chosen to gift to his best friend might have some kind of unintended consequence. For the first time, Rowan wondered if Blake would be able to deal with the card at all.
Of course, the trio of girls took that as a cue to draw closer to Rowan’s friend, holding onto him or standing in front of him defensively, and Blake’s tense posture loosened just a smidgen.
“Kayla, you asked us to come here. You stopped us from following the only clue we had in favor of this meeting. If you could stop sniping at us and just tell us what you want, things would be so much easier,” Rowan said, taking the reins of the conversation.
Rowan expected the challenge to be met by equal amounts of disdain, but when Kayla turned to look at him, she was just amused.
“You know, Rowan, I almost discounted you. Almost. Even helping you with that puny epic was, at most, minor entertainment and a long shot. Seeing you now, though… well, I didn’t think you’d manage to drag this idiot back to a semblance of usefulness, let alone your personal growth.”
The first signs of his own tempter started to show, if not on Rowan’s face, then with the spear he kept by his side at all times. It started to spark with blood-red energy shot through with black strings. “Allow me to repeat myself. Be civil, at least useful, or go away.”
Rowan was gritting his teeth by the end of that sentence, so focused on Kayla that his eyes practically looked like they were shining. Or they might have been actually shining, mana slipping out of his control.
“Oh, fine,” Kayla scoffed, leaning casually back in her chair. “But first, everyone not engaged to a hero, fucking a hero, or sworn to their service, get out. That means you two.” She looked in the direction of Rowan’s only two [Knights] who hadn’t pledged their allegiance to him.
Kayla’s proclamation was met by a brief stunned silence, but to Rowan’s eternal surprise, both Tamara and Lucius stood up with no complaint. The Mercenary King’s face was frosty, and Tamara looked like a kicked puppy, but they obeyed.
When they were gone, Kayla casually motioned with her hand as an ornate book to materialize above her palm, floating in all its ominous glory. A pulse of magic rolled out from the book, phasing through everything in the tent and marking it.
Thousands upon thousands of ridiculously small runes formed up everywhere in a display that took Rowan’s breath away. Most of the physical classes in the room immediately tensed and went for their weapons, then paused when the casters didn’t seem concerned, just awed.
“There, no chance of anyone spying on us now. So, my master, or former master, I guess, and the barbie doll’s father,” Kayla motioned casually at the princess, “are coming here to kill us.”
That particular statement went over about as well as a brick could gently go through a window. Especially when said ‘barbie doll’ paled, wobbled on her feet, and collapsed back into Blake’s chest. The uproar of noise, questions, and curses did nothing to ruin Kayla’s sly smile.
If anything, she looked incredibly smug as two high nobles, the other two members of Blake’s party, tore into her for answers. Marcus just stared at her blandly, his sister was freaking out and fumbling with her own grimoire, and Olivia established a death grip on Rowan’s arm.
The two male heroes went through a full hard reboot process themselves, but even then, it didn’t seem like they’d taken the news anywhere near as hard as the rest of the room.
Suspicions or not, hearing that the person who was the ultimate authority of the kingdom was gunning for them was a whole new thing.
Rowan closed his eyes to block out the twinkling eyes of the mage hero that were still fixed on his own, took a deep breath, and brought the butt of his spear down on the carpet, hard.
The motion shouldn’t have achieved much. However, intent and mana did odd things at the best of times, so the mini explosion that followed did more than enough to quiet the room and draw attention to Rowan.
He didn’t even ruin the carpet, as long as the scorched spot didn’t count!
“How do you know about this? How long do we have, and why does the king want to sabotage his own heroes so gods damn badly?” Rowan was growling there at the end, but he didn’t overly care.
He’d done his very best to perform the duty they’d kidnapped him for, and now he was finding out, pretty decisively if Kayla’s expression was anything to go by, that they most definitely wanted him dead. Before he could do the thing!
“Okay, let me handle that in order of importance!” Kayla chirped, leaning forward like she was confiding a secret in the middle of a school yard instead of giving out state-level secrets. “We have about two or three hours before they get here. It would have taken them days to organize and track us down if my master wasn’t involved. As things stand, that’s all we’re getting now. Second, do you remember the god whose blessing I received? Do you really think that someone blessed by the goddess of secrets couldn’t figure out when someone’s keeping a secret that could cost them their life?”
Kayla’s voice was, if anything, even more amused. There was a note of danger there too, but Rowan didn’t blame her for feeling highly uncharitable towards people plotting her murder.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Finally, as to the reason why, that would be power. Lots and lots of power. Oh, and fear of heroes, I guess, there’s also that,” Kayla said, her smile growing.
“Power and fear,” Blake spat. “I suppose I can understand power. Killing a high tier individual provides plenty of experience, and heroes are supposed to be special. Why in the world would they fear us? Fear me? I’ve done everything they wanted! Everything!”
Rowan winced, grateful for the wards once more.
“Well, you did, for a while,” the heroine of secrets drawled, shooting Blake a lazy wink. “You played a nice little paladin, jumped on every order, and did everything they wanted. Then you argued for Rowan’s sake, tried to stay in the capital because your goddess wanted you to, lost your army, and teamed up with Rowan. That’s as good as mutiny against the king.”
“You’re telling me he wants me dead for just having basic free will?” Blake asked emptily, looking through Kayla rather than at her.
“Exactly, now you’re getting it! The thing you two don’t understand is that heroes are a big deal. Now, obviously, they’ve done everything they could to truncate our power and reduce us to useless puppets that would, hopefully, die in a mutual destruction move against the demon king, but we’re not a good example of what heroes can be.”
“Explain.” Interestingly, it was Olivia that made the demand, shooting Rowan an alarmed look.
If he didn’t know her any better, Rowan would have assumed that his fiancée was scared of him. Instead, he could tell that the panic came from the fact that she was terrified her family had somehow messed up when providing him with support. That they’d somehow ruined his potential.
“Blake’s the best example. With that heart card of his, and oh man am I jealous, he could have qualified for a half dozen unique and dangerous classes with minimal effort. Minimal. Effort. The only thing he wasn’t supposed to do was select a base starting class. And that’s what the king made him do! Then, they paraded him around dungeons and power leveled the holy shit out of him, pardon my pun.”
“They were trying to help…” the princess protested weakly, but the wretched expression on her face spoke enough on its own.
“Ha! Sure, ‘help.’ Anyway, that ended with him getting folded the first time he went up against a demon at his own tier. I mean, seriously, Blake? Pathetic. Now, there does seem to be something different about you now, and I have it on good authority that you somehow ‘fixed’ yourself, but no clue what that means yet.”
“And that information wouldn’t happen to come from a certain mage with a dubiously dangerous build, would it?” Rowan snapped, crossing his arms.
The dazzling grin he got in return was infuriating. “Come on now Rowan, don’t be a grump. They tried the same shit with me. All the leveling and class picks into the least optimal build, and teaching me only a pathetic few spells that mostly relied on parallel casting with a whole contingent of mages to work. Powerful and flashy, but useless without support.”
“And I suppose you somehow overcame that on your own?” Marcus was the one who asked, looking like he was immensely enjoying all the drama. And also eying up Kayla in a manner that made Rowan’s eyes widen and fill him with a certainty that he’d need to have a talk with his friend about crazy and what not to do with those.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly comment on that!” Kayla laughed. “Anyway, that leaves us with Rowan. While they at least pretended to give us levels and amazingly powerful cards, they didn’t even bother with such things for you. They publicly offloaded you on the lowest ranked noble in the kingdom, and one who had their family ruined just recently. You got practically no support, past some advice and training, which didn’t even come with hero-unique class paths or secrets!”
Olivia looked vaguely ill, prompting Rowan to draw her closer and glare at Kayla. “I did just fine on my own, thanks.”
“And that’s the thing! You did! Like the first few generations of heroes, you made your own way, got your own cards and experience, and managed to make it all the way up to epic. Then, you picked the class that could let you level up to legendary way faster than expected. Oh, they freaked out over that!” Kayla was entirely too cheerful for all of this. The laughter didn’t do much to lift anyone’s mood, but Kayla obviously wasn’t done once she caught her breath. “If that wasn’t enough, you turned around, took over that stupid border city, and actually made it work for you. Before rescuing Blake and earning his loyalty, of course.”
“He’s my friend. There’s no need for loyalty, we were always going to help each other!”
“Were you? Were you really? While you were freaking out over what his goddess and king were doing to him and the way he was acting?” Kayla scoffed, then shook her head in exasperation. “Frankly, you got ridiculously lucky. If it weren’t for Blake’s little accident, he probably would have fought you at the mere suggestion from his king or goddess. Really, it probably wouldn’t have taken much, would it Blake? Did it feel nice to be brainwashed? Did it feel like you were doing something useful with your life?”
“I —” Blake clearly wanted to protest, but the paleness of his face and thin sheen of sweat all suggested Rowan’s best friend was about to have a panic attack.
“That all compounded along with the general distrust and fear they had of heroes from the start. Turns out, historically, when you kidnap someone and shove them into a war, they don’t tend out to develop into the most stable of individuals.” The saccharine cheeriness of Kayla’s voice was revealing a dark undertone.
“We did hear some stories of atrocities heroes of the past committed,” Rowan admitted, suddenly uncomfortable with the subject.
“Oh, yes, ‘atrocities’ is right. The power you need to accumulate to kill a demon king isn’t a small thing. Heroes would war, suffer, and then find themselves unable to cope. Most went back to their worlds to chase after normalcy. Some, though, end up so warped they don’t want to or don’t feel like they can leave. Those almost always cause widespread devastation.”
“There’s not that many stories,” The princess protested weakly again. “My father wouldn’t only use those to make a decision. You can trust him.”
For the first time, Rowan noticed how woodenly she was talking. She didn’t exactly have a vacant look in her eyes, but it was like someone, or something, was forcing the words out of her mouth.
“I was wondering, you know,” Kayla said conversationally, rounding on the girl. “But now that I see you up close, yep, I’m certain. He really did curse his own daughter, didn’t he? Huh. Or he had you cursed, I guess. Cursing isn’t exactly something a king does personally.”
“I am not cursed, and I am not saying any of this against my own will.” The princess’s voice went even more bland, and Rowan fought down the urge to interrupt what was going on. Blake had no such compunctions as he spun the princess around, taking her in with terrified eyes.
“He cursed you? Is that why you joined my party? Is that why… I mean, our…. That night before we left…” Blake was stumbling over his own words, looking more pale by the second.
Thankfully, his fiancée cut him off by diving into his embrace, squeezing her arms around him. “No. No, that’s me. That choice was all me,” she whispered, this time with actual emotion in her voice.
Blake slumped in relief, but he didn’t really look any happier.
Rowan struggled to get the words out that would get their discussion back on track. “So, he was worried we’d get strong and then go off the rails?”
“Not just that, no…” Kayla muttered, looking distracted. It took her a minute to tear her eyes away from Blake, and Rowan would swear he saw pain and a flash of regret on Kayla’s face before the unbearable smugness made its return.
“What else is there, then?”
“Well, yes, he was worried we’d try to go all ‘social progress’ on him over slaves, working conditions, treatment of lower classes, and stuff like that. You know, just typical hero stuff. Or that we’d just go insane and become tyrants. But, he also wants more power and to secure the future of his kingdom, and if I have it right, that’s the bigger thing.”
“Can someone finally stop dancing around the issue and finally tell me why killing us is such a big deal?” Rowan snapped, rather angrily.
“Because under the right conditions, with a hero card in hand, you can ascend to godhood.”
And isn’t that one hell of a proclamation to make with a ridiculously calm expression? Rowan thought bitterly.
“Don’t look at me like that, it’s obvious nothing less would make a king inclined to take stupid risks before the demons are gone. Those things have legendary cards, you know?”
“I know,” Rowan snapped on instincts, then shook his head. “How?”
“Best I can tell, and my theory’s been backed up by recent events, we don’t have access to our full hero card effects. You noticed that in addition to the purple glow, our cards have golden rays of light around them?”
Nods came from both heroes, making Kayla grin.
“Well, that’s a sign of divine tier. My best guess is because we were summoned here by gods, they can’t prevent a piece of their divinity from sticking to us. What they can do, however, is lock it away behind requirements. Ridiculous requirements. I’m still on four out of eight, even though there’s only the final legendary demon and the demon king himself left to kill.”
“Really? I’m only at three out of eight,” Blake muttered, confused.
“Well, then it seems like you need to catch up, lover boy.”
It was only Rowan’s extremely heightened body awareness and control that let him prevent any outward signs of his surprise. Somehow, at five out of eight, he was ahead of his two peers.
Eyes turned towards him, obviously expecting his own progress report. “Four of eight, as well.”
The words were delivered flawlessly, but he still caught the shadow of a frown on Kayla’s face. He was really starting to hate the whole goddess of secrets blessing thing.
“So, what do you suppose happens when you hit all the requirements?” Milena asked, pure curiosity on her face.
“Well, the way I see it, our heart cards probably turn Divine,” Kayla shrugged, making a shudder pass through everyone in the tent.
A divine heart card. The ability to pass right through the tiers. All of them. Until, finally, you were made a true god yourself.
The sheer idea boggled Rowan’s mind. Although…
“Wouldn’t that be useless?” de Vort’s question cut through the awkward mood, focusing everyone’s attention on her. “I mean, what kind of ridiculous stuff would you need to do to get enough experience to hit divine? Demonic invasions don’t happen every day. You’d die of long age long before getting enough experience.”
A hiss left Rowan’s lips, and several other details finally fell into place. “Unless demons are always around and trying to invade. Until you let them stick around until you’re done grinding. Waiting before you kill the demon king.”
Kayla’s grin was as good as a declaration that Rowan was right. “That’s how I see it too. Demons have a tendency to grow quickly, ridiculously fast. Research says they’re strong from the start actually. It’s only crossing over into our world that cripples them temporarily. The more they hang out here and the more people they kill, the more they get back their original abilities.”
“A whole lot of legendary enemies, served up to whoever wants to take the risk.” Blake wrapped up the conversation, looking as disgusted as everyone else.
“Well, that. Or these idiots get our heart cards, and then muck everything up by getting killed and demons swarm everything until dragons or other divines wipe them out.” Kayla shrugged, looking unconcerned. “It’s happened before.”
Rowan took a deep, calming breath. What Kayla was saying was fascinating. It was fascinating and terrifying and he didn’t want to think about it. However, they had bigger things to worry about.
“Is everyone forgetting that a king is coming to kill us?” Rowan asked in exasperation, and judging by the reaction of everyone but Kayla, they really had forgotten. “What do we do?”
“Well, obviously, I have a few ideas…” Kayla’s smile had lots of teeth, and for the first time, Rowan felt relieved she’d chosen to reach out.
—
Rowan was carefully monitoring his bond with Lucius, and the man’s anxiety had been climbing ever higher since the meeting started.
At first, it was tinged with hope. However, the longer no one showed up to talk with him, the more the hope died. And then, finally, it winked out in a whirlwind of anguish and resignation.
Just in time for a massive magic circle to light up in the middle of the Mercenary King’s section of the camp.
There were shouts, confusion, and even fear raging outside the tent. Interestingly enough, the emotions seemed to be prevalent even among Lucius’s own troops, at least from what everyone could see on the scrying glass provided by Kayla.
Then the light of the circle reached a crescendo, and three figures formed out of the light of mana at the center of the ritual.
A grouchy tower master Kayla once answered to.
A warrior in gleaming armor that made Blake draw in a startled breath.
And the king himself, dressed for war and with blood staining parts of his armor.
Actually, on a second look, Rowan realized that all three of them showed some signs of combat. Kayla was right, then, when she suggested that the king was likely the one responsible for the death of the final legendary demon so he could boost the power of his assistants.
That most likely left them with three legendary tier humans about to try and kill them all.
The king finished forming out of light, then looked around himself curiously. His eyes alighted on Lucius, but before he could speak, a man confidently stepped forward.
“Greetings, your majesty. If it would please you, my lord, Hero Rowan, invited you to join them at the meeting.” Bron looked confident. In control. Rowan assumed that the man was anything but, judging by the near meltdown when he first heard that he was put in charge of greeting the king.
In spite of that, he’d done an admirable job.
Admirable enough for the king to shoot him an indulgent smile, shake his head in exasperation, and then motion the scout to lead the way.
Things were official. They were about to meet the man set on murdering them.