Chapter Twenty Eight

The terrible idea won out. Maxwell’s “in” with the event heartily agreed when given the rundown of the plan. She’d only made a deal with the knight because she thought it had the potential to be amusing. This could be doubly so.

“Don’t dawdle, Mercy.” The old abbess prompted, reminding Harmony of her name this evening.

Harmony shuffled forward in line, adjusting her makeshift disguise, her hand casually touching the choker around her neck that held the obfuscation ward, making her difficult to inspect. The character she’d designed was unique. One of Max’s old sparring shirts was cut and modified with [Mend] to look like a baggy, plain shirt and breaches. [Small Armor] insisted she have something, so on her left hand was an oversized gauntlet, also modified. [Beautician] complained, but all her features were made plain, except for her nose which had the illusion of a crook. All underneath a mop of unruly brown hair, shagged down to cover her ears and just below her eyebrows. While the height was unmodifiable unless she wanted to slouch, something [Poise and Bearing] and [Style and Grace] fought so hard against that it wasn’t an option. Otherwise, she looked nothing like the Lady Harmony White. Short girls existed everywhere.

“Yes, Abbess Violet.”

As for why Violet agreed to this, she was a devotee of Chaos, embracing the idea that complacency bred stagnation. Harmony liked the woman’s enthusiasm on the topic. That and she didn’t care that Harmony had no interest in joining any of the temple organizations.

The chain of clergy, associates, and their applicants wound up the palace tower stairs towards the second floor. The first four floors were for business, while the top four of the wide tower were the royal’s living spaces. She could feel Adric above her, probably not acutely as he could her. The plan was to “call” him once the event got to the social aspect when she could most likely slip away.

A hundred applicants were expected, so she’d be just one of the crowd. Not including their patrons and other groups that were there to recruit. A swap meet of talent, or those that didn’t fit within their current organizations. Geniuses, problem children, rebels, outsiders, and diamonds in the rough for them to compete for. Violet was here mostly to recruit the most chaotic candidates, and socialize. The abbess explained to not stand out, that Harmony should do her best during the recruitment process. Purposely trying to do badly could get her removed as they do ask some to leave for poor performance.

The bodyguards were left behind, as was Ambrosia. It almost felt like she’d slipped away for a vacation from her new aristocratic life. A guard wearing a sun on his chest checked the guests before they entered the ballroom. Violet waved an invitation at the man who didn’t even bother reading it.

“No setting anything on fire.” The man warned with a glare as they entered.

“What was that about?” Harmony hissed to Violet.

“I like bringing interesting applicants.” Then with a comforting pat on Harmony’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

Setting things on fire wasn’t what Harmony wanted to fit in with. She wasn’t even planning on freezing anything. That was too noticeable as a skill Lady White had. Inside the ballroom, she got a bigger picture of what this would be like.

Guards wearing sun crests dotted the ballroom as staff, hosts, and security. There were some tables set up as well as a few sparring rings. The patrons were all older, often in formal wear for their positions wearing robes, armor, or merely well-tailored clothes. The applicants were an eclectic bunch, younger since it had to be before their first evolution to attend. Each wearing or equipped with tools to show off their class, profession, and talents. If you’d said this was a gathering of young adventurers rather than people wanting to join one of the temple groups Harmony wouldn’t have been shocked. Each dressed to show off or get noticed. As planned, she was one of the more ordinary-looking ones here.

“Violet Everdeen, with an applicant, what a surprise! I’d heard you were skipping bringing someone to this season’s harvest of talents.”

A paladin of the moon, in their suite of armor, only missing his helm. Gray hair at his temples, the image of what you’d find in a storybook.

“Jonas! I had this one fall into my lap at the last minute. Mercy here is a bit shy, but you won’t find anyone here more talented.”

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Harmony understood these were all talented individuals looking for different or new opportunities. Sir Maxwell's level of talent. Someone who would beat her if she wasn’t tricky while sparring. In the handful of times they'd practiced since he’d become her knight a few days earlier, they were about even in matches. It wasn’t like she had many people to compare him to. A lot of the talents here were probably more profession-based anyway. Being introduced as the most talented person here was a bit of a stretch.

“Ho, ho ho. I hope she shows me mercy then. I’ll be your first test. Come on and take a few swings at me.” The picture of a cocky, old, evolved fighter with a half-mocking glint in his eye. Harmony disliked the superior attitude already.

That was the lady in her. As a maid, she was used to that, usually allowing that superiority to slide right off her skin if they even bothered to interact with her. It was part of the job. Now part of her took it as a challenge and maybe was more annoyed since she’d increased the number of direct interactions with these kinds of people. But perhaps it was because she now had the opportunity to do something when faced with such smug looks.

Either way, this man waited to be punched. Who could say no to that?

So she took action. Not the visible, jump-in-swinging kind. Mercy was more reserved. She walked cautiously closer, using [Analyze] as though it would tell her anything useful. It didn’t. The man was clearly evolved, possibly twice over. Just because he smelled arrogant didn’t mean it wasn’t earned. Thankfully he stood still and waited patiently.

“I think I like the ones who try to strike before I finish inviting the punch, Violet.”

With [Mana Rotation] finished being used to empower a skill, Harmony struck. [High Kick] blended with her physical skills from [Small Armor] to [Style and Grace] making her fast and fluid. Just not fast enough to handle most combat classes, or even people with a good escape or speed skill. [Stride Before the Fall] could have her appear next to him, but that was another one off the table if only for the fact that it left her naked without Night.

That time before she moved had been important, however, she’d avoided targeting Jonas outright. An awful lot of people had things like [Danger Sense] or [Early Warning] a whole category of skills to let you know when something is coming or someone is targeting you. Like mana, stamina, and escape skills that was one of those skills deemed key for free skill slots. Now that he was targeted, she watched him shift in place. His attempt at dodging failed.

[Mend] needed leveling. It was one of those cross-class skills. Healers used it to patch people up, seamstresses bound cloth together, and tinkers could fix broken wood and metal. Maids were generalists. You never knew when a guest would get a minor cut, a teapot broke, or a dress ripped. Useful but not outstanding. Harmony was already well experienced in leveraging those kinds of aspects so skills from her time reshaping faces and sculpting nails and hair. That was before her connections stat came into play. Like more easily mended with like, Jonas stood in a pile of overlapping metal for the most protection. Now if he’d been moving this trick would have been near impossible. But since he was still, Harmony boosted her skill and fused his armor as best she could, focusing on the joints and locking them in place during her careful approach.

It didn’t make him less sturdy or suddenly make it so she could damage the man, but that wasn’t the point of this test. Harmony didn’t even hit the man in the way [High Kick] always begged to be used, but instead used her strike to twist her foot behind the paladin’s ankle and shove him over it. She tripped the man as quick as she could.

Even as he started tipping over, he shifted trying to regain balance, the metal bonds she put in crackling as they snapped, but it was too late to do more than that. Sir Jonas, paladin of the moon crashed down back first onto the floor, the cacophony of the crash drawing every eye in the room. So much for staying unnoticed.

That was the thing. It wasn’t supposed to work. There had been backup plans for when it didn’t. That’s why she didn’t [Final Silence] him while following through with the trip. Make him stumble a step or two, land a kick maybe. Something minorly impressive on someone clearly above you.

“Ha!” the Abbot laughed.

Jonas was on his feet mighty quick. “I take it back. That was quite impressive young, Mercy.”

Harmony might have been flattered if she wasn’t a combination of suspicions, and annoyed that the move went so well. Suspicions she couldn’t even prove. It wasn’t even like these two had time to coordinate. Perhaps this was something done for all of Violet’s candidates?

[Poise and Bearing] soothed her ruffled feathers. “No problem at all.” Harmony lied.

“With someone like you challenging the others, they’ll certainly need to try their hardest.” Jonas continued a little too loud.

Challenging, like challenger? What did he know? If Max set her up, she was gonna... A deep breath calmed those thoughts. He was still sworn to operate with her best interests. This was all an annoying coincidence. Violet's chaotic nature was getting less appealing.

“You humble me.” Harmony squeezed out when she knew he was putting a target on her.

Jonas moved away. Other patrons wandered over, their charges in tow.

“I would have paid to see Jonas put on his ass years ago. That makes it all so much sweeter to see it now.”

“Wherever do you find them, Violet?”

Paired with the praise, their applicants supplied glares. This was going to be a long night.