[Pride] has nullified [Duke]’s [Noble Aura] skill

[Pride] has nullified [Archmage]’s [Archmage’s Aura] skill

[Pride] has nullified [Fist God]’s [Transcendent Aura] skill

  It seemed that the past five years had not been kind to the duke. I had initially guessed that he might have been in his sixties, but I later learned that that had been an extreme underestimate. I would not make the same mistake if I saw him for the first time at the ball. He now looked much closer to his nearly ninety years of age, and he was hunched to the point that he was looking up at me, and now required a cane to walk. His hair had receded even further, and seemed as thin as spider silk so that I could clearly see his spotted scalp underneath. 

  Standing half a step back on either side of him were a very large man, and a very fat woman using an illusion to make herself seem thin. The man would have been a head taller than Anatoly, and he was built like a tank, with shoulders at least twice as wide as the duke’s and arms thicker than my torso. He had a full, neatly trimmed beard and a full head of hair tied back in a ponytail, both of which were brown and streaked with gray. When we made eye contact, he gave me a stiff nod while tugging at the collar of his too-tight suit.

  At first glance, the fat woman appeared to be a voluptuous woman in her twenties wearing a form-fitting green dress that accentuated her curves decorated with extravagant frills and floral patterns. She drew stares and slightly agape mouths from all the men around her, though I doubt they would have been looking at her the same way if they could see what was underneath the illusion. Between my high [Perception], and my experience with Illusion magic, I found it very easy to see through the glamor and, unfortunately, view her real appearance.

  The real woman's dress was the same shade of green, but instead of hugging her body tightly, it was loose and baggy, probably in a futile attempt to hide all the extra pounds she was carrying. I couldn’t tell her age, because her face was covered in so much makeup that I wasn’t even sure that the light tan she was showing was her original skin color. Her hair appeared black, but I would have been surprised if that was its natural color, given the rest of her appearance.

  I was slightly confused as to why she would bother getting so dressed up if she were just going to use an illusion to cover it all up. I suppose she didn't want to look too bad if her illusion were to somehow be dispelled, but she was so hideous already that I don't think a bit of makeup and a fancy dress would help. I made eye contact with her, and she gazed back a condescending look filling her dull blue eyes.

  Anger bubbled inside of me for a moment, but it quickly turned to amusement as I continued observing her. Hidden underneath the illusion was another layer of mana covering her entire body, this one unattributed. I recognized it as the [Levitate] spell, and for a second, I struggled not to laugh. She must have been the archmage whose aura [Pride] had nullified, but she couldn’t even walk on her own without the help of magic? And she was looking down on me? It was comically pathetic.

  I couldn’t revel in the humor of the situation for too long though, as the duke was still waiting for a response. I gave her a small smirk of my own before turning back to the geriatric old man.

  “Ah, Duke Lyon,” I said without enthusiasm. “You’ve gotten older.”

  His lip twitched, and he paused a moment before answering. “Well, not everyone can be Immortal.”

  It was my turn to twitch. At some point during my training, a spy, either of the church or the Duke, had seen me out and about at night, and even drinking blood, and my race soon became one of the worst kept secrets among Ravel’s powerful positions. It hadn’t affected me much so far, but I didn’t want to advertise that I was a vampire.

  “So, what do you want?” I asked, causing a few gasps to escape from the not-so-subtle eavesdroppers.

  “I came to congratulate you on becoming an archmage in such a short time,” he said, showing off a set of disconcertingly white teeth in a false smile. “Though I guess it would be easier for someone who doesn’t need to sleep.”

  “It was quite easy, actually,” I said. “I’d say you should try it, but at this rate, it doesn’t look like you’ll make it another three years, let alone five. Who are your friends by the way?” I asked, glancing at the other two people. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “Ah, I’m glad you asked. These are two of the Ravellian Lions,” he said, with a much more genuine smile. “This is the Fist God, Sir Casimir Lévesque. He’s one of five mortals in all of Ravel who have achieved level 100.”

  “I’ve heard many great things about Sir Casimir. It is an honor to finally get to meet you” I held out my hand for him to shake it.

  “A pleasure,” he said tersely.

  He stepped forward and reached his hand out to accept mine and for a moment I felt like a child with how much his hand dwarfed mine. When we shook, my fingers didn’t even reach the other side of his hand, while his index finger was touching his thumb a few inches from mine. His hands were firm, and covered in thick calluses, but he held my hand more gently than I would have thought possible for a man of his size.

  Once we moved back to our original positions, the duke spoke again.

  “And this,” he said, gesturing at the Michelin woman, “is Archmage Beatrice Langley. She has also reached level 100, and is the most powerful non-elf mage in the world.”

  “It’s wonderful to finally meet you,” said Beatrice in a startlingly high-pitched voice as her illusion curtseyed. Her real form remained in place. “I’ve heard so much about you! If you ever need any advice on magic, feel free to come ask me. I’m always happy to help younger, less powerful students!”

  I curtseyed back as I responded. “It’s an honor to receive such an offer from an archmage with so much more age and experience than myself. I’ve heard that you’re an expert on simple spells that help out in every day life.” I glanced pointedly at her stomach. “I haven’t yet found myself in need of such magic myself, but if I ever do, I will make sure to come to you.”

  Her disguise remained smiling, but underneath it, I saw the fat woman scowling at me.

  “These two are some of the highest paid individuals in the nation,” said the duke proudly, apparently not having noticed my slights against Beatrice. “You seem to have noticed Archmage Beatrice’s dress. Do you recognize the maker?” Before I could answer he continued. “Ah, of course you don’t. It’s a dress custom-made by the great dressmaker Astrid Lebeau herself.” Beatrice's illusion turned slightly, showing off a few more flowers and ruffles that I hadn’t been able to see before. Again, her real self didn't move. “It cost over 100000 gold.”

  “And Sir Casimir here… Well, he doesn’t much like expensive things, but over the years, I’ve given him enough money to buy out a county! Tell her how much you made last year, Casimir!”

  “My lord, I’m not sure if that’s appropriate,” said the Fist God, looking very uncomfortable.

  “Go ahead!” encouraged the duke. “I give you permission!”

  “...3 million gold,” said the huge man softly.

  “3 million!” exclaimed the duke much more loudly. “And that’s not even counting the loot he gains from his missions!”

  “Ok,” I said. “And? Is there a point to telling me all this?”

  “I was just thinking it was a shame that you’re stuck relying on Dungeons to be your main source of income. If you had just decided to work under me, you would be making more than you could ever dream of. These are the two highest paid Lions, but all of my Lions live more comfortably than any countryside baron or count.” He beamed at me with a triumphant look on his saggy, wrinkled face.

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  “So?” I said. “I don’t regret my decision. I wouldn’t work under a man who can’t even remember his own daughter’s name for all the money in the world.” The small crowd of onlookers that we had gathered gasped at this. “How is Sylvia by the way? I haven’t heard from her since she tried to kill herself after you disowned her.”

  The audience gasped even louder, and I heard muttering and whispering all around. The duke grimaced, looking as though he had just taken a bite of a raw lemon. Before he could respond though, a hearty laugh rang out from somewhere off to our right. Everyone turned to look as the crowd frantically made the way for another man to stride into our area. I immediately recognized the newcomer as the king.

  Like the duke, the king was an old man, but that was one of the only similarities between the two. While the duke was hunched and needed a cane, the king stood tall and walked confidently. The duke’s hair was practically non-existent, but the king had a full head of snow-white hair with a thin gold circlet atop it. He had stopped laughing by the time he arrived, but he was still smiling, showing a mouth full of slightly crooked teeth with a mild yellow tint.

  “Your Grace,” said the duke, bowing as much as his back would allow.

  “Ah, no need for that,” said the king cheerfully. “This is a party! We can’t have everyone pausing their merrymaking to bow every time I walk by!”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” said the duke, returning to his original hunched position.

  “And Archmage Lucille!” said the king, suddenly turning to me. “It’s great to finally meet you! I’ve heard great things! You’re just as quick-witted as the rumors say!”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” I said, nodding my head toward him. “You flatter me.”

  “Of course! How could I not flatter the youngest archmage in the past millennium? Your achievements are truly incredible!”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  As the king and I talked, the duke’s expression grew more and more sour. From the king’s actions, it was obvious what was happening there. The king and duke were clearly not on the best of terms, and the king was taking my side to hurt the duke. He probably would not be giving me such preferential treatment otherwise. It wasn’t a bad idea to use this though.

  “Ah, it looked like I interrupted your conversation,” said the king with exaggerated apologeticness. “Louis, I believe that the young lady had asked you a question. I am curious about the answer as well.”

  “I have not heard from my daughter since that day,” said the duke coldly.

  “Ah, that’s a shame,” I replied. “I took her back with me to care for her, since she didn’t have a home anymore, but she ran away, and I haven’t heard from her since. I fear the worst.” I put on my best expression of sorrow. “She was so devastated when she was disowned and insulted by her own father whom she was only trying to please.”

  “Truly a shame,” agreed the king, also acting very sad. “You didn’t often bring her around the palace, but I do recall meeting her once. She was such a kind and quiet child. It saddens me greatly to think that she might no longer be with us.”

  “I-I too have regrets about that day,” said the duke with his best attempt at a morose face. “It was a moment of weakness and anger. I never truly meant it. I struggled with my regrets for days, but by the time I worked up the courage to do something about it, she had already gone.”

  “You worried about her for days?” I asked. “The daughter whose name you couldn’t even remember the day before? I find that hard to believe.”

  The duke grimaced again, and then appeared to struggle to find a response until he was saved by possibly the only non-dangerous thing that could have distracted us from that conversation.

  “Saintess Evelyn of the church of Order!” announced the guard at the entrance, his voice ringing out across the whole field.

  “Baron Antonio Verdi, Godly Emissary of Diligence!”

  “Archmage Natalya Tchaikovsky, and Sir Alexei Duval, the heroes of Ludberg!”

  I looked over towards the entrance trying to spot them. I was not actually tall enough to see over the crowd, but with a little bit of clever light manipulation, I was able to see as far as if I could.

  The four new arrivals made their way through the gates, and the guests nearby quickly parted to give them space to walk. The Saintess and the Godly Emissary came first. Evelyn was wearing a simple, but elegant white dress, and she walked in a slow and dignified manner befitting her position. The cat-man, Verdi, was next to her, and wearing a plain black suit. I wasn’t adept at reading feline facial expressions, but I thought he looked slightly uncomfortable.

  Natalya and Alexei followed a few steps behind them. Natalya was wearing a dark red dress with a matching hairpiece and she smiled widely, waving at the people around her like a celebrity. Alexei was not bothering to hide his displeasure at attending the party, still wearing his armor, and sporting an even grumpier expression than usual. Natalya noticed my magical peeking, and waved at me and started making her way over in my direction, dragging Alexei with her. The Saintess noticed their paths diverging, and after a moment’s hesitation, decided to follow after Natalya, with the Godly Emissary staying close to her.

  I turned to the duke, hoping to finish my business before they reached us, but it turned out I had nothing to worry about, as he had already turned around and was trying his best to escape his predicament with the two Lions in tow. Beatrice turned to give me a look somehow nastier than her face already was, and Casimir gave me another small nod before the two disappeared into the crowd. Well, they disappeared as much as two people of their size could.

  The King hadn’t moved though, and was looking at the spot where the duke had stood with a satisfied smile.

  “Well, I apologize for hijacking your conversation,” said the king, turning to me, “But I just had to see him squirm up close.”

  “It’s not a problem at all,” I said. “I’m glad to have someone else to enjoy the the view with.”

  “Ha!” he laughed. “I like you! Actually, there’s an open slot for an archmage at the palace right now. I think you’d be a perfect fit for the position.”

  “Sorry, but I’ll have to decline,” I said, eying him warily.

  “That’s too bad,” he said, looking genuinely disappointed. “Well, if you ever change your mind, feel free to come see me. Archmages are hard to find. I doubt the position will be taken anytime soon.”

  “Thank you. I will keep that in mind,” I said, internally breathing a sigh of relief. I could probably handle it, but I still didn’t want to get on the king’s bad side in addition to the duke’s.

  “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have other people in need of my royal presence,” he said. “I enjoyed your company for what little time I had it. Farewell.”

  “Farewell, Your Grace,” I replied as he turned to walk away, disappearing into the crowd much more effectively than the Lions had.

  A few seconds later, Natalya and Alexei emerged from the opposite direction that the king had gone.

  “Lucy!” said Natalya, moving in for a hug.

  I tried to evade her, but failed. While she embraced me, I received a System notification as the Saintess and the cat-man arrived.

[Pride] has nullified [Saintess]’s [Holy Aura] skill

[Pride] has nullified [Godly Emissary]’s [Heroic Aura] skill

  “Congratulations on becoming an archmage!” she said, pulling away. As she did so, I felt the tracking spell disappear.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Alexei glared at me, but didn’t say anything.

  “Archmage Lucille,” said the Saintess softly. “It is good to see you again. I congratulate you on your achievement.”

  I had met the Saintess once before when the news that I was a vampire first got out. I was called in for round after round of interrogation from church officials regarding whether I was a Demon King or not, and for one of them, the Saintess was present. Both then, and now, there was only one emotion I could sense from her when I looked into her eyes.

  Boredom.

  I couldn’t really blame her. From what I had seen, she was hardly more than a figurehead for the church. Her job was to be the face of the church, and very occasionally pass along messages from Themis. She was hardly ever allowed to leave the church, and spent most of her days out of sight from the world. I probably would have run away long ago if I were in her position

  “Greetings, Saintess,” I said. “Diligence.” I nodded towards Verdi

  I wasn’t totally comfortable around him still. He didn’t appear to pose any threat to me, and I couldn’t sense any mana or aura from him, but he had still been chosen as a [Godly Emissary], so he wouldn’t be harmless. I had made it through the church’s interrogations, but I still would rather not spend too much time around one of the people chosen by the gods specifically to kill me and the other Sins.

  “So, what are you planning on doing now?” asked Natalya.

  “Actually, I was just about to tell you that. It’s convenient that Diligence and the Saintess are here, too, since this concerns them.”

  “Oh?” said the Saintess, her silver eyes brightening with interest.

  I activated a little bit of Sound magic to amplify my voice slightly, so that I could be sure that the bystanders would hear. Natalya had removed the tracking spell without me needing to ask, so she would most likely be alright with me leaving on my own, but this was still something I needed to do, even if I didn’t need an excuse to leave her.

  “I have decided that I will help the church of Order bring the Demon Kings under control.”