“I need to have—” Dallion began, but before he could finish the overseer’s hand darted forward with a speed far exceeding that of the otherworlder.
PERSONAL AWAKENING
A green rectangle indicated that they were no longer in the real world. At this point, Dallion’s instincts kicked in. Leaping back, he burst into instances, while also summoning his weapons.
“No need for that,” the copyette said. “I’m just here to convey a message.”
Cautiously, Dallion put down his weapons, although he didn’t unsummon them.
“I need to see the emperor,” Dallion continued. “The Azures attacked my settlement. Just a small group for now, but—”
“We know,” the copyette interrupted. “Two dozen monasteries were infiltrated and destroyed in the last few months.”
Two dozen? This was the first Dallion had heard of it. With no one attacking the Order in the known world, he had assumed it would be the same everywhere. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. The Order of the Seven Moons held a lot of secrets and never publicized their failures. Few outside of the organization knew of cultist infiltrations. Even less was known of destroyed monasteries. Dallion himself had witnessed one razed by the Star cultists, only to be quickly rebuilt without a word.
“So, you agree with me? The emperor must be told.”
“If he’s told, we’ll miss our chance,” the copyette flatly refused. “There’s every possibility he sends a “more experienced noble” to take over your domain and fight off the threat. You’ll remain in control of your settlements, of course, but your development will end there. You’ve had to deal with a noble above you in the past. Do you think it’ll be different?”
Dallion couldn’t deny that such an outcome sounded very likely.
“It’s even possible that he gives the area to Priscord just for the fun of it.”
Hearing that, a blob of anger emerged within Dallion’s forehead. There were a lot of things he could ignore or forgive, but the former Countess Priscord wasn’t one of them.
“You’re telling me to sacrifice my settlements for the greater good?” He frowned. “Is that another of the archbishop’s prophecies?”
“Yes.”
The single word conveyed everything Dallion needed to know. It wasn’t a case of blind loyalty, the copyette truly believed that the prophecies held truth, despite them being wrong a few times so far.
“War clerics are on their way to fortify the monasteries in your area.” An aether map of the known world emerged as the copyette spoke. “They’re moving in small groups so as not to raise suspicion, but when they gather together, they’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”
“Sooner or later the emperor will find out.”
“That’s a given. Which doesn’t give you too much time to get into the inner sanctum of the Twelve Suns.”
Of all the things that Dallion expected, that was the last. With everything going on in relation to his settlements, he had all but forgotten about the Order of the Twelve Suns.
“Come on.” He looked to the side. As he did, he found that another version of the copyette was standing next to him as well.
“We’ve learned that an event of major importance will take place soon.” The slime ignored Dallion’s reaction. “It’s believed that a close relative of the emperor will take part in it. We’re not talking about any of the branch families, but someone who’s in the line of succession. A ruler without direct heirs will inevitably become a victim to rumors, even the emperor.”
Strange. Dallion hadn’t heard any such rumors. He was just about to make a remark, when it hit him: he hadn’t heard any such rumors. In a city that lived on gossip, every major house was discussed. House Elazni was especially prominent, with opinions split between Dallion being outcast to drop out of the race and him being sent there to gain some quick hands-on experience before replacing the duchess. There was no way people wouldn’t discuss the future of the empire. So far, the direct line of succession had continued without fail for hundreds of years.
“He’s been suppressing it,” Dallion said, trying to think of anything else that people were actively not discussing.
“The person in question is Duke Abla Eir, second duke of the empire.”
During his time in the capital, Dallion had occasionally heard the name. Like most of the established members of the main imperial house, he didn’t have to involve himself in the local webs of intrigue and politics. Supposedly, he was adequately skilled, but the same could be said for most imperials. Training echoes, artifacts, and skill gems weren’t an issue, allowing them to achieve in weeks what others couldn’t in decades. The only limit was the one they were born with.
“Is he part of the Sun Order?” Dallion asked.
“We suspect he might be of the inner sanctum. Either way, the archbishop has prophesied that he’ll take part in the event, along with a select group of other members. If you make it there, you’ll be selected as well.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Dallion didn’t like that at all. He was taking a huge risk based on the “prophecy” of someone he hadn’t seen. Unfortunately, he wasn’t given a choice. His alliance with the Order of the Seven Moons was mostly in their favor. If Dallion were to walk away, he’d lose their support.
“I just have to make it to the inner sanctum?” he asked.
“As you said, time is a factor. You must do it today.”
“Sure.” Dallion hissed. “Anything else you’d like me to do while I’m at it?”
“Prepare your tools and equipment beforehand. You’re allowed to bring anything with you, but you can’t use skills different from those tested.”
“You don’t say.” Despite Dallion’s sarcasm, that was a useful piece of information. He had considered using magic to summon his equipment in the common room of the Zodiac building. Good thing he didn’t or the mess would have been greater. “Anything else?”
“We’ll be in touch.”
Dallion was ejected from the copyette’s personal realm and thrown into the real world. Fractions of a second later, the “overseer” sunk into the ground, disappearing as well. As far as the city was concerned, the conversation never happened.
You’re such a bastard, archbishop, Dallion said to himself. His webs were just as strong as those of the emperor. For Dallion to succeed with his goal, he’d have to break through them, yet now wasn’t the time.
Summoning his hammer, Dallion set off for the Zodiac building. The noises and sensations of the city were the same as always. The powerful remained in their buildings, while leeches moved about the streets, taking every opportunity to do nothing. Thanks to the recent level boost, though, he was also able to notice something else: the patterns of emotions of the domain. As an experienced user of music skills, Dallion had grown accustomed to recognizing the emotions of people, plants, animals, items, or even small areas. His domain ruler skills had boosted that allowing him to see the flows moving about like rivers.
That’s how limiting echoes are created, Vihrogon said from within his realm.
To be honest, Dallion didn’t expect domain rulers to personally invade the realm of every person to place a limiting echo there. Being able to see the flow of emotions in practice, though, gave him a sense of what he would face. There was more to domain ruler combat than simple battles and armies.
“Welcome back, sir.” The porter bowed low as Dallion neared the building’s entrance.
“I want to see Unnie.” Dallion added a few touches of arrogance to his voice.
“Of course, sir. I’ll inform her to join you in the common room.”
“I’d like to see her outside,” Dallion specified.
“Outside, sir?” The man’s tone was unusually dry, almost as if he’d seen it all before. “I’m afraid that would be impossible, sir. Members are not allowed outside of the building in their Order apparel.”
That was an excuse Dallion didn’t expect to hear.
“Then ask her this for me. Can I use magic to summon my materials and equipment? Or must I carry them to the door myself?”
There was a momentary pause.
“Summoning them before the start of the trial is fine, sir,” the porter replied. “You are even welcome to do it in the common room.”
So much for the copyette’s information, Dallion thought as he entered the building.
The smell of stale tobacco filled the lobby section leading to the common hall. Likely someone had experimented with recreating something from Earth. With virtually no otherworlders left in the capital, there was no way for things not to go astray.
Unnie was standing beside the next trial door, wearing her usual black gem jeans, this time along with an orange jumper of jade thread. No doubt the outfit was meant to impress, but Dallion found it outright comical.
“So wonderful to see you,” the woman said. “The Order of the Twelve Suns admires effort and persistence.”
Giving her a quick glance, Dallion cast a quick spell. A large anvil appeared along with a miniature furnace, a rack of tools, and a pile of ingots of various metals.
“I just have to open the door, right?” Dallion took a step closer.
“Unlock it. If you try to force it open, even with the expected skills, you’d have failed.”
“I only have one go?”
“The Suns don’t believe in second chances. Remember, it’s your goal to prove yourself to us, not the other way around.
What a load of snobs, Dallion clenched his teeth. If it wasn’t for the archbishop, he wouldn’t have gone along with this. Making it to the common room was enough to obtain general recognition. The rest was superfluous.
“Unlock,” he repeated, correcting himself.
“Yes, that’s all it takes. And don't worry, you’re free to use your magic to summon any tool, device, or materials. You merely can’t use them to create the actual item.
Clearly, they weren’t aware of magic forging.
“See you on the other side, then.”
Dallion was about to start, when the woman moved in front of him, hands extended forward.
“Just one other thing,” she added. “You need to use this.” She handed him a ring of black metal.
“An artifact?”
“A precaution, if you will. We need to be sure that you aren’t using your magic vision.”
That stood to reason, but it also could be a trap. In the home of paranoia, where the simplest action—or inaction—could ruin careers, Dallion was wise to be cautious.
“So much for trust.”
“Trust is only determined after the fact.”
The argument could well have continued for a while longer, but Dallion quickly took the ring and put it on his left pinky finger. All magic threads he could see abruptly disappeared.
Gen, is everything okay in there? Dallion decided to check.
All good so far. No portals, no realm invasion, the echo replied.
“Am I allowed to enter the door’s realm?”
“Only if you find a way to.”
Taking a few steps forward, Dallion put his hand on the door. Just like last time, nothing occurred. Normally, any object would have a realm, and often a guardian. This one merely kept shimmering in an otherworldly light. It was obvious that the material was metal—Dallion’s forging skills told him that much—but for all intents and purposes, it was so foreign that it might not exist.
No magic and no entering its realm, Dallion thought, sliding his fingers along the cold surface. Obviously, there was a way to complete the trial, but how exactly? The four crafting skills were forging, carving, arts, and scholar. Similar to the first trial, all of them would have to be used to go through this.
“Avoiding the door would also constitute a failure,” Unnie said. “Just in case you’re considering it.”
“I wasn’t.” Dallion lied. “One more thing, though. If I break part of the door, but not enough to pass through, would I still lose?”
“If you’re as skilled as people claim, you already have everything necessary to complete the trial,” the woman replied in a way that suggested that damaging the door in any way might be considered a failure.
Alright, let’s get cracking, Dallion thought.