The screams and chaos continued. Even with the archduke’s soldiers rushing to the main banquet hall, now that the alarm was raised, they were having difficulty fighting their way through the room. Despite the echoed attackers not being that numerous, they were placed at key spots, ensuring that the hall remained isolated for a while. Originally, that was supposed to be until the assassination. Now that it had failed, they were simply fighting for their lives.
A merchant with a sectioned sword leapt past the fury guards, aiming to reach the archduke. A column of stone emerged from the ground, pinning him to the ceiling.
“Sorry you had to see this,” the noble said, the air of boredom returning to him. “I was hoping for a much more elegant display.”
For someone who had survived a coup attempt, he seemed remarkably calm. Given what had happened forty years ago, maybe he was used to this. It wouldn’t be out of the question to think that there were echo recreations of past bloodshed, just so that future nobles knew what to expect and how to react when they did.
“Have there been other attempts?” Dallion asked, finding himself at a lack of topics.
“No one was foolish enough. I guess war tends to make people stupid. Priscord, Dreud, and now Nerot. All so naïve, incapable of seeing that they can’t do anything beyond the confines the emperor has placed.” The column sunk back into the floor, leaving a mangled corpse. “I aimed to sell the aura sword at the auction,” the archduke changed topics. “As a world item, it remains the envy of the empire. Priscord tried to take the one I’d lent to your former guild.” A cynical smile formed on his face. “Useless, of course. I had the item returned to me way before she made her move. Even when she tried to be sneaky, I could tell months in advance.”
And yet she managed to win, Dallion added mentally.
“I think I’ll let you have it.”
“A world item?” Dallion’s shock was no less than if a dragon had swooped down from the ceiling.
“I have several,” the noble waved his hand. “One less would hardly matter.”
Also, he didn’t want to feel indebted. That was the thing about high-powered nobles, a lesson Dallion had learned the hard way. Even if it wasn’t stated openly, the notion would gnaw on them politically as well as internally, probably causing more realm flaws than it was worth.
Another wall of ice divided the hall in two, isolating the crossbowman. Diroh was doing remarkably well, considering her lack of actual combat experience. March must have trained her quite hard.
“You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you. Many say that if you hadn’t discovered magic, you’d have become a noble by now.”
That was a popular topic of discussion. Even Dallion himself often considered what might have happened if he’d held out for three move levels before accepting the Purple Moon’s offer. Putting aside the fact that he’d likely have died, he’d probably be serving the Lanitol family as some minor noble. In time, and with a bit of luck, he might have even risen to the point of obtaining a city of his own. At no time could one advance as fast as during a war… just like his grandfather had. Provided that Dallion didn’t do anything that would get him banished, he might have been instrumental in the countess’ fall and potentially be made lord mayor of Nerosal.
“It was fortunate that you didn’t.” The archduke narrowed his eyes. “The last time otherworlders visited the palace, a lot of bad things happened.”
Otherworlders? Dallion’s grandfather had sworn that he’d only seen one other like him. Had the old man lied? Knowing him, Dallion suspected that to be the case. Still, if the archduke was referring to Kraisten, who had been with him?
“But enough about the past.” A stone chair appeared next to Dallion. “Sit. Let’s discuss more pleasant things while the noise dies down.”
“May I make one request before we do?” Dallion asked. If there was a moment to try and push his luck, it was now.
Intrigue flowed from the noble as he nodded, indicating for Dallion to continue.
“I’d like the mage’s robe, if you’d allow it?”
“You want his clothes?”
“Just the robe. It has some magical properties,” Dallion was quick to add.
“I’ve often heard that mages are like vultures, gaining strength from each other’s corpses.” He glanced at the body that had been Nerot. “Why not? Pick him dry. Take anything you wish, but leave the corpse. That belongs to me.”
Dallion nodded. “Only the robe.”
“Well then. I’ll have someone fetch it for you.”
It took another five minutes for the “noise” to die down. The overseer, along with the fury guards, and everyone on the archduke’s side, had killed off the last of the puppets. Dallion would have wished for a few survivors to question, but the noble’s order was absolute: no survivors.
Meanwhile, he and Dallion went on to have a conversation about artifacts and other small talk matters. The whole thing was awkward, but Dallion didn’t dare go against it. All the arrogance he had built up in the last six months had melted away. If this was the strength of an archduke at the low of his life, one could imagine what the really powerful ones would be like.
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Once the fighting was over, the bodies of the loyal were taken out of the hall by the archduke’s soldiers. Everyone else was quickly consumed by the overseer, who then left the room with a bow. All damage to the walls, floor, and ceiling vanished—likely mended by the archduke himself. Yellow clad servants quickly replaced the chairs and tables, proceeding to replenish the food and drinks that had gone to waste. Soon enough, it was as if the unpleasant incident hadn’t occurred. The number of guests had vastly decreased, now barely a quarter of what they had been. None of the non-awakened had survived. Of the remaining, most of the lesser nobles were dead or injured, confirming the principle that only the strong endured.
The banquet continued into the night. There was no auction. The topic of conversation revolved around events in the north, as well as the Academy and the rogue mages it was hunting down. The incident, as well as anything dealing with Archduke Priscord, were deliberately avoided.
Nothing like creating a bubble, Dallion thought. The weak were probably influenced by the archduke’s domain, and the rest knew better than to venture there. Considering it was said that the Moons disapproved of using echoes to manipulate people, a surprising amount of nobles used it on a whim.
Diroh seemed surprisingly at ease. Dallion could still sense emanations of alarm and distrust emanating from her, but not to the amount he expected. Additionally, she tended to hide them well.
“Well played,” the overseer approached Dallion once the archduke had focused on a discussion with a few members of his immediate family. “Didn’t think you’d earn a gift.”
“Oh?” That’s what you’re surprised about? Dallion thought.
“Before you arrived, he planned on making an example of you,” the overseer continued. “Oh, not kill you, of course. Just humiliate you as much as permissibly possible. The whole de-robing thing, having to publicly explain your failures and what not. He even planned on Itella challenging you in front of everyone just to create a spectacle.”
“Let me guess. The former mage assisted in choosing the humiliation methods.”
Taking advantage of someone who wanted to take advantage. Nerot had played on the archduke’s vanity, while the Azure Federation had played on his.
“What about you?” Dallion asked.
“Me? I serve the one who controls the city.”
“And who is that, precisely?”
The overseer smiled. Dallion had seen overseers go against their owners, but this wasn’t the case. More likely, there was some spell or artifact involved. Now that the whole room had been deprived of foreign elements, the secret would remain hidden. Dallion could almost hear Nil explain that any information on the matter might make the archduke seem more incompetent than if all was left to speculation.
“Your prize,” the blond handed Dallion the mage’s robe. It was exactly as it had been: torn and covered in blood. Thankfully, whole enough for the guardian to remain alive. Looking at it, Dallion could see the threads of magic circulating.
“Thanks.” He took it.
“And this as well.” The overseer drew a sword from his very leg. It would have been a nice magic trick if one didn’t know what was involved. “The aura sword that you helped obtain.”
“I take it that’s a hint for me to get going?”
“There’s no further need for you here. With all matters resolved, you can get back to doing whatever you’re doing. A request for a mage replacement has already been sent, so I expect the Academy to send one in a few days.”
That sounded so typical of a noble. Several hours ago, there had been an urgent insistence for Dallion to participate in the banquet and the following auction. Now he couldn’t be shooed away fast enough. Taking the sword, Dallion made his way towards Diroh.
“We’re leaving,” he whispered as he passed by.
The fury, who had engaged in polite conversation with a group of lesser nobles, excused herself and followed Dallion out of the hall.
“Seemed like you were having fun,” Dallion said, knowing full well it was a lie.
As they walked, Ruby flew off the fury’s shoulder, landing back on Dallion’s.
“Not as much as the time you took me from Halburn,” she replied. “And you said I’ll be safer with you.”
“You were safe.” At least to the point that Dallion could ensure. “Next time, walk above the ground.”
“I’ll make a note.”
“There could be spells everywhere.”
In all honesty, Dallion had fallen for it as well. If it hadn’t been for the item that warned him, he might as well have been dead. There was no guarantee Dallion was fast and vigilant, but the heads up was vastly appreciated.
The only annoying part was that he still didn’t have any idea which item had warned him. Even after the attack had been thwarted, the items had remained just as silent as before. Few had responded to nudges, even less had said anything remotely useful.
“Do we keep the clothes?” the fury asked.
Dallion’s instinct was to say no. Even after checking the threads for echoes and magic, he remained cautious when it came to gifts. Then again, it was obvious that they had no traps within them, else they would have already triggered during the assassination attempt.
“If you want to. I’m leaving mine. I can’t use it where I’m going.”
“I think I’ll do the opposite,” the fury countered.
“Don’t just drop items you’ve known for years.” It was a bit hypocritical since he had done the same many times, especially when it came to clothes. In all honesty, he couldn’t even remember where his first set of improved clothes from Dherma was. “Take them with you to the Academy and then decide what to do.”
“Sure. What’s a little more weight?”
No one escorted them as they made their way to the guest mansion. The moment Dallion was in the open, he cast a flight spell, darting in the direction of the structure. Diroh followed closely behind. Arriving, Dallion checked all the previous items for implanted echoes, then quickly changed clothes and geared up.
You got an aura sword? the armadil shield asked, impressed.
“It’s not yours,” Dallion replied.
It doesn’t matter. Aura swords are mage weapons.
“You told me that you weren’t a mage.”
I’m not, but they have to be in order to be a world item. A lot of magic is required to make a habitable realm. Tap into that type of magic and—
He doesn’t need to learn that, Harp interrupted. Let him learn at his own pace.
There was a moment of silence.
You’re his guardian, the armadil shield replied with a nonchalant shrug. Just keep in mind that his pace has been rather slow lately. Six months for seven magic levels is pretty bad. Either he picks up the pace or he’ll stay where he is. You know better than me that there are no rewards for trying.